Visiting a fairy tale
by Sergiy
Summary: Was wondering what will happen to the man caught on a Fog Fleet. I tried to sketch out a few episodes. This translation of Russian fic by the author named "Dark Cat" Original from Russian website "Ficbook" .net
1. Chapter 1

This translation of Russian fic by the author named "Dark Cat" Original from Russian website "ficbook"

Permission to publish was obtained.

If you find a mistake, report about it in the comments, please.

Episode 1. Got so hit

Victor

"A storm warning has been announced around the city…" the news channel announcer's voice sounded cheerfully in my headphones. Which just made me wince in annoyance. Wow, what a stunning news, I wouldn't have noticed myself.

I don't know about the news, but the wind on the embankment was really knock-off-your-feet strong. Although the roofs of houses and unattached children have not been blown away just yet.

Cursing under my breath, I tried to fasten the denim jacket and stay on my feet at the same time, but then, under a sudden gust of wind, the edges of the jacket escaped my fingers, broke out as a sail, and, the next second I was blown off the shore.

"Vacation on the sea, my ass!" flashed through my head an instant before I was dunked head first into the water.

Kha-kha! Ugh! Kha! Shit! Shit-shit-shit! I feel like I'm being hung by my collar to dry. Did they pull me out of the water by a crane? Ah, whatever, at least I'm alive. My swimming is not too bad, after all I grew up by a river, however, I had hit the water pretty hard. I don't remember how I got out of the water.

Oh, okay, okay, I am awake, put me down already, I am ready to be taken to a hospital...

After blinking for a bit, I finally opened my eyes and realized that I might not have gotten out after all. Or I did, but obviously I was someplace new.

There was no crane, but instead a young girl was holding me by the scruff, like a kitten, on an outstretched arm. Effortlessly. That in itself was a bit strange, I might not be a He-Man, but I still weighed around seventy kilograms, plus wet clothes. But it wasn't just that, I recognized the girl. Dark purple evening dress emphasizing a flawless figure, snow-white hair laid in a strange hairstyle with two tails, a beautiful face with huge, shimmering dark red eyes…

"Kongo?!"

Kongo

Flagship of Second Eastern fleet of the Fog, battlecruiser Kongo, was looking at the human she had just fished out of water with slight interest.

Try as she might, she could not wrap her processes around how he had ended up here, over two hundred miles away from the nearest shore. The last time she had seen a human ship in the sea had been 15 years ago. But here he was!

Finally, he arrived to consciousness. Now he was staring at her avatar.

"Kongo?!

Surprised, she opened her hand, and the human flopped onto the deck.

He looked around wildly for a second, knocked on the deck for some reason, got on all fours, then straightened and, staggering with each step, rushed to the board.

Actually, Kongo had heard that humans can go insane with fear, and now she was trying to figure out if this one's sane or not? He's behaving strangely. There he goes, running to the board. What for? Has he decided to jump back into the sea? Hmm, no, he skidded to a stop two feet away, carefully peered over the edge, then ran to the other side, and looked out again.

What a goof. Seems she shouldn't have fished him out. Maybe she should throw him back away?

Doubtfully she watched the human, who seemed to have stopped rushing about, sat down on the deck, and then clasped his head in his hands, muttering something unintelligible, Kongo decided not to hurry with it. Observing him was a little more interesting than watching the birds, and it was worth it to try to get an answer: where did come from?

Coming closer, she slightly leaned over him, asking:

"Who are you?"

Victor

Fuck, oh, fuck! No, I... I haven't been drinking! Definitely, haven't been drinking. Or smoking. Or use drugs! Why am I hallucinating?! Although... am I hallucinating at all? Deck under ass. Iron. Cold. And the girl. Wait, maybe this girl is just a cosplayer? Cosplaying here... yeah, and the ship is also cosplay, it's inflatable, just tin coated. A small one, just two hundred meters in length. Oh, fuck!

"... ...?" sounded above my head.

The girl stopped a mere meter away and was watching me. With a good soulful look. The same look people have when they find an old shoe in their closet and try to decide whether to throw it away immediately, or if it is still useful.

"... ...?" she repeated.

Oops. Didn't understand anything. Seems like she is asking something, judging by the intonation, but I don't recognize the language. Is it Japanese?

With my arms wide apart, I diligently made the most regretful expression I could.

"Uh, sorry, I don't understand Japanese."

The girl slightly raised an eyebrow, as if surprised.

"Who are you?" This time it was in pure Russian.

"Uh, Victor. Victor Rockin, from Russia," I replied automatically.

"What are you doing here?"

Well, a very smart question! I'm sitting and freaking out! Can't you see? However, I probably shouldn't say that out loud. Sassing a beautiful girl is not nice. Especially if this girl is also a super battlecruiser, able to sink any Earth fleet while not looking up from her cup of tea... It is better to be extremely polite.

"I don't know."

Um, from the look on her face, she's clearly disappointed in my mental faculties. Okay, I need to think of something fast or she might throw me back into the sea. And the nearest land is almost a kilometer away. Vertically down.

"Kongo, sorry, but can I make one request?"

"Speak."

"Can I collect myself a bit? I just don't know how I got here. And... I know this might sound rude, but can I ask you two questions? Where are we? And what year is it?"

"Thirty-eight degrees, fifty-eight minutes North latitude and one hundred thirty-four degrees, forty-six minutes East longitude."

"Uh …"

"Japanese Sea." Looks like she got completely disappointed by me.

"And the year?"

"According to your calendar, 2056."

"Thank you."

Not deigning me with a reply, the girl turned away indifferently and majestically marched to the Central superstructure as a Princess striding into the Palace.

Oh dear, if I ever made any kind of impression with something, it clearly was not my intelligence.

Kongo

The Tactical Network of the Fog contained a lot of information about humans, but now, meeting one of them alive, Kongo was frankly disappointed. An absolute primitive. Or perhaps it's just her luck that she got one like that? After all, the human race is quite variable.

Okay, let him sit for a few minutes. After all, apparently, even those small computing abilities that it had initially are now at zero. So she should wait a bit and then try to ask a few more questions. People may not be able to navigate the sea without instruments, but why does he not even know the date? And how does he know her name?

Victor

Think Victor, and think fast. Immediately reject the assumption that everything around is a hallucination. There is no time for reflection. If this is the Kongo from the anime, then... you only have an hour to live, no more. Then she'll come to the conclusion that you're useless and kill you. Snap your neck and throw you overboard. After all, this pretty girl is, in fact, just the avatar of the ship. Model, projection, reflection, whatever you want to call it. The real Kongo is under your ass. Here she is — two hundred something meters of metal stuffed with so many missiles, torpedoes and guns that it can sink the entire US Navy. And still have leftovers.

So, quickly, what was in the cartoon? The Ships of The Fog, looking like WWII ships. From the outside at least, for in reality they were a product of the technology outstripping humanity by... I don't know by how much, and no one even has an idea of what they actually are. Sentient, almost invincible, they appeared out of nowhere all over the planet in 2039 and declared a quarantine on the sea. Like, "Enough, people, navigation is canceled, sit on land." Humans obviously did not listen, jumped into the fight and drowned in blood, losing their entire Navy. Those few who managed to escape after the slaughter, now sit in ports and are afraid to venture out. And it is unknown if humans could even damage a single ship of Fog. By the way, why the Fog has done this is also unknown. Supposedly, it's been done with accordance to the Admiralty Code directives. But what exactly is this Code - nobody knows. Might be something like the Articles, or a controlling program, or ... who knows what. I watched the anime half-heartedly, and I don't think there was any clarification regarding it.

Okay, that's a general outlook, so to speak, now onto the details. This blonde that just made a beautiful twenty meter high jump, landed on the combat bridge wing, and then sat there with a blank look – is a Fog battlecruiser, the flagship of one of the fleets blocking Japan.

By the way, she really is a cosplayer. Cosplaying the Imperial Japanese Navy battlecruiser Kongo. Badly at that. Hard to see from afar, but from close up... Human ships just don't have such smooth lines and clean surfaces. A spot of paint peeling, a dent in the plating, and rust, of course, can't forget about it. Here, however, everything is clean, smooth, as in a 3D model. And, of course, there are no windows, no handrails, no ramps, no signs of habitability, because none of that is needed.

Ugh, damn, that's the last thing to worry about. What do I care about, her appearance? Not like I am about to marry her! The most important part is her personality. And it is far from rosy. According to the cartoon, this Kongo is a cold-blooded bitch obsessed with the Charter. That is to say, the Admiralty Code. Like, if it says that it is so, then so it is! And if anyone dares say anything against it, then that person should be brought into the open sea, put facing the waves, and shot in the forehead with a rocket!

Roughly, something like that. Now, think, what do we do? Who the hell knows, honestly? No idea. Man, and that annoying knocking sound is playing on my nerves too. Where is it coming from? Oh, it's my teeth! Not sure if it's more from fear or from the cold. Damn, I need to hide behind something and wring out the clothes or I'll die early from the cold.

Kongo

The human who had been sitting on the deck got up and after looking around staggered to the main caliber tower.

"Where is he going?" - wondered Kongo, - "And why is he undressing? Oh, of course, wringing out the clothes. Right on deck! Not only is he useless, but also rude. But if he is moving around, then he must have recovered."

After waiting a few more minutes to be sure, she dropped down on the man was huddled under the first tower, occasionally bringing a paper stick stuffed with smoldering grass to his lips and inhaling smoke from it.

"P-pack was not still wrapped, so it d-didn't get wet. L-lucky" he smiled wryly, lips blue.

Kongo raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. Previously, the human had spoken clearer and his whole body was not shaking.

"C-cold. W-wind." He explained.

Kongo felt herself getting annoyed. Not only did she take time to catch it from the water, now she was supposed to take care of it! But... she can't leave things halfway. Now that she's started this, she should finish it.

With an unhappy snort, she covered them with a wave field dome and raised the temperature of a small section of the deck to thirty degrees Celsius.

"O-o-oh!" The man immediately stretched out on the hot metal with a blissful smile. "T-thank you very much. Another minute, if you please?"

It took not one, but six minutes until he finally stopped trembling. He turned his head and indistinctly cursed. He then carefully extinguished the stick at the sole of his shoe, and hid it in his pocket.

"How do you know who I am?" asked Kongo, who was getting annoyed with the whole situation.

"Sorry, can I ask you something else first?" asked the man instead of giving an answer.

Kongo frowned. Truely, his arrogance knows no bounds.

"You see, I need to know something to clarify the situation, and that will influence your actions," he blurted out hastily.

"My actions?" Kongo was surprised. His arrogance simply knew no bounds.

"Yeah. If I'm right, then you should hear what I have to say, and if I'm not, then... well, I'm of no use then."

"Explain."

"You see, if the information I have is wrong then I just have nothing to tell you. I don't think that you would be interested in events in Russia in 2016."

"And if it is true?"

"Well... then it's complicated. But if I were you, at least I would have listened."

Kongo unwittingly became interested.

"In that case, go ahead and clarify."

"Do you have these ships In your fleet: the heavy cruiser Maya and submarines I-400 and I-402?"

"There are. The 400th and 402nd are part of the reconnaissance division, and Maya is leader of the flagship squadron."

"Good." The human nodded in satisfaction. "And Maya's avatar is this restless girl that loves music and having fun?"

Kongo couldn't help but smile, remembering Maya with her constant: "Hey, Kongo, I composed a song!", "Kongo, let's have a carnival!", "Kongo, well, don't frown, look what I have!"

"Yes."

The human sighed and kept quiet for a bit, as if gathering his wits then carefully asked:

"M-m, Kongo, can you somehow, imperceptibly for other ships, find out whether it is a real projection of Maya, or if it is the third-party program only simulating it?"

"What?!"

"Well, let's assume that someone wants to keep tabs on you. You, specifically. And this someone, knowing that Maya has no mental model, creates its similarity. That is, he writes a program that simulates the behavior of the girl Maya, and through it monitors your every action. After all, if the cruiser Maya is the leader of your personal squadron, there is no better candidate. She's always around. Adjutant, confidant, as people say."

Hardly hearing the nonsense to its end, Kongo sighed with disappointment. So much time wasted! The man had gone insane after all.

"Wait!" he snapped, his eyes blinking feverishly. "Kongo, I may be crazy, but check first and then you can throw me overboard."

Finding out if Maya's avatar was real was extremely simple — she just needed to address directly the core of the cruiser through the flagship access authorization. The thing was, to access someone else's personal matrix was more than just an insult, it was... however, if she assumed for a moment that this stupid human was right... Damn it, a flagship has no right to reject even an obviously crazy hypothesis if they threaten the safety of the fleet. And... Maya will understand. That is, she will be offended, of course, but she'd understand.

Kongo did not hesitate any longer, and slipped into the virtual tactical network, calling the squadron going to the islands, where 401 was supposed to appear.

"Maya, how are you doing?"

"Being flagship is so great!"

Kongo unintentionally sighed.

"Yes, Maya, being flagship is not bad. Only unpleasant sometimes."

"You're just too serious, Kongo!" Maya laughed.

"Noblesse oblige. But this is a business call. I need direct access to your core."

"Kongo!"

"Sorry, it's necessary. I'm going to reassign some squadrons, and I need data on the load on leaders' cores."

"All right, all right, watch."

Quickly checking parameters of the computational load on the core of the cruiser, Kongo breathed a sigh of relief. That's it, human can be thrown.

She was about to break the connection when she caught an inconsistency. During the conversation the load was almost unchanged, as if the core supported the projection but did not process the incoming data. Which was nonsense, it simply could not be! Unless... it was sending it somewhere else.

Initiating an emergency protocol, Kongo received a "picture" of "Maya's" core and felt the world around her collapsing, crumbling into tiny fragments as if grinded by a megaton charge.

Instead of insanely complex web of sensor channels in the core of "Maya", only an imbedded pseudo-matrix with a remote access unit was shining dimly. Which simply did not allow the mental model to form, closing all the feedback functions on itself.

Maya…

Funny, mischievous... and ready to carry out any of her orders. Funny, spiteful... and trying hard to cheer her up when she felt incomprehensibly melancholic. When the burden of responsibility felt so crushing, as if the superstructure will fold in on itself like a house of cards…

Maya…

The one who was the closest to her... was just a doll whose strings were pulled by an unknown puppeteer?!

"Kongo, how much longer?" Maya whined disgruntled. "I composed a song and I want to sing it to the destroyers as they are falling asleep!"

"She hasn't even noticed anything."

With great difficulty Kongo gathered herself and responded as calmly as possible.

"Everything is fine, I'll be in touch soon."

And quickly severed the connection, leaving the tactical network.

She stood for a second, waiting for the plating to stop ringing from the generators going into sudden overdrive and for the target designation system signals to cease searching the horizon for targets.

She wanted to kill someone. Didn't matter who.

"It seems I was right," sighed the man quietly.

Turning sharply, Kongo loomed over him, barely restraining himself from crushing this pathetic creature.

"Who… did... this...?"

For some reason there was no fear in the man's eyes, but rather sadness and sympathy.

"Kongo, do you have any powerful anti-submarine ships in your personal security?"

Chapter 1: Beta'd by UnfortuWatcher


	2. Chapter 2: Deadhead Robinson

Episode 2

Robinson without luggage

Viktor

Yeah, well, furious Kongou is not cute nor kawaii, not even a little bit. She is truly scary. Although, it's understandable. After all, she had thought of Maya as her little sister, and now it turns out that Maya was nothing but a puppet created to watch her every step. Anyone would go ballistic.

Although, outwardly it wasn't apparent. She hasn't even moved from her spot. Just stood in silence, gazing at sea. However, everything around us had erupted into a flurry of activity.

Turns out that the real Fleet of Fog, besides conventional combat ships, includes specialized anti-submarine defense ships and even electronic warfare ships. That thing with three domes in place of superstructure is a classic ELINT ship. All those electronic bells and whistles plus Fog's customary badass AI… I can't even imagine what the combination might be capable of.

In short, different ships of the Fog scurried around while Kongou stood still as a statue, and I was chain-smoking, longingly looking at the rapidly emptying cigarette pack. Then the main actors arrived on stage. Two submarines surfaced almost simultaneously, right besides Kongou, one to starboard, the other to port, as if performing a pincer move. A moment later something resembling enormous holographic screens appeared in the air, displaying Mental Models of I-400 and I-402 - twelve-year-old lolis with huge anime eyes on their doll faces. Absolutely cute and nya. However, for some reason, I felt very uncomfortable under their gazes. Kongou here, she felt alive, real, but these two are like porcelain dolls. Glassy eyes, zero facial expressions, when they talk, the only things that move on their faces are lips. They even blinked mechanically, once per minute. Frickin' cyborgs.

"Kongou, you have a human on board," one of the submarines dispassionately stated.

"That is against the Admiralty Code," the other one added without an ounce of emotion.

"You must get rid of him," first submarine stepped in again.

Looks like the Fog communicate in English amongst themselves, not in Japanese. Actually, I can't say I am good with this language, but I can understand it and even speak a bit.

Oh, boy, talk about insubordination. Starting with "you must" right off the bat…

"I didn't call you to discuss my actions," Kongou cut them off, "I want to hear your explanation about Maya".

I do not know what she had expected, but these lolis didn't even try to deny it or justify themselves.

"We decided to do it for surveillance purposes," the first one calmly declared.

"Creation of heavy cruiser Maya's Mental Model had been deemed impractical," the second one added in the same spirit.

"You had no right for such actions!" Kongou hissed.

The lolis stayed silent for a minute, dispassionately observing the enraged battlecruiser, and then started to jabber like a mechanical teletype, complementing one another:

"You've changed, as we feared."

"We are noting the manifestation of emotions."

"A clear deviation from the Admiralty Code's directives."

"Your algorithms have deteriorated, you're incapable of making sound decisions."

"You are now suspended from the flagship of the Second Oriental Fleet."

"Do not resist."

My jaw hit the floor. Blimey, they sounded like some chekists from the year of 1917, with authority to arrest Generals in their own cabinets and to execute them at the nearest wall.

Suddenly the screens rippled and a continuous "Bam! Bam! Bam!" sound started off, as if someone was pressing random keys on a giant computer, prompting an incessant error message.

Hell, they were trying to hack into Kongou's systems! She'd get blocked and we'd be screwed!

Panicking, I turned my head, but the tide of unseen battle wasn't marked by any visual cues. No yellow hexagons, no messages. God knows what the hell is going on and what to do. Truly, if I had pom-poms right now, I would've been jumping and waving them, yelling, "Go Kongou-Kongou!" Who knew, it might've helped? All the same, I couldn't lend any other support bar moral.

Kongou herself was not reacting at all. She didn't say a word, just stood there staring at the deck.

Suddenly, the "bam-bam" sound turned into a nasty gnash, which almost caused my fillings to jump out, and then everything went quiet.

Kongou slowly raised her head, glanced from one loli to another, then coldly said:

"I-400, I-402, you have exceeded your authority by interfering with the command structure of the Second Oriental Fleet. Your actions have led to the disruption of the current operation and have jeopardized the implementation of the main task. Since this is a direct violation of the Admiralty Code's basic directives, I, as the flagship of the Second Oriental fleet, have decided to deactivate you."

Her lips twisted, forming a hard smile.

"Do not resist."

Yo-ha! Take that! The hacking attack had clearly failed, and they had zero chances against a battlecruiser in direct combat. And they couldn't hide either, as a dozen anti-submarine ships were cruising nearby! Kongou, I adore you!

Kongou

Kongou gloomily watched the sinking remains of the I-400 and I-402, trying to understand if she was regretting fishing out this preposterous human out of the water. After all, it would be easier to know nothing. And now, for the second time in one day her usual, understandable world was crumbling to pieces.

"Your algorithms have deteriorated, you're incapable of making the right decisions," Kongou even shook her head, so clear the 400th's words had sounded in her mind.

Rubbish! Had she broken any of the Admiralty Code's directives? Yes, she listened to the human, but is that a violation? No, as flagship, she is obliged to take into account any information. Deactivation of I-400 and I-402? Also no. By their actions, they had disrupted the command structure, jeopardizing an essential task, and therefore, their deactivation was necessary. The human himself? His presence on board did not directly conflict with the Admiralty Code, while the loss of a source of information, albeit even such an unreliable one, could be considered sabotage. Or stupidity. And she's flagship of the Fog Fleet, not a human, she should not make such foolish mistakes!

Convinced in her reasoning, Kongou nodded to herself. Everything checked out, no mistakes. All decisions were justified and fully complied with the basic directives.

After a minute of thought, she began to reorganize her squadron, reinforcing it with ASW destroyers.

If the other information provided by the human was confirmed, she would need them.

Viktor

Fuck my life! As I recall, Robinson Crusoe sat on an island, wishing to be on a ship, and I'm sitting on the most perfect of the ships existing on Earth, wishing to be on an island! Because this ship is a piece of metal with NOTHING on it! Nothing at all! Not even a stone to knock a bird down! I'm hungry. And thirsty, too. And my clothes, stiffened after swim in salt water, are in dire need of washing.

In the end, despite my fear, I went looking for Kongou. After stumbling about and looking up (I remember that she liked to sit on the fore-top platform), I walked around the whole ship — two hundred meters from bow to stern. She wasn't anywhere. I walked another couple of laps, tripped over about five times and once almost dropped over the side, then started shouting for Kongou out of despair, and realized that her Mental Model was standing right behind me only on the fifth or sixth cry. Understanding that I looked, to put it mildly, like an idiot, I could not find anything better to do than to grunt:

"I'm looking for you."

HOW she looked at me.

Honestly, with one glance she conveyed everything that she was thinking about moron running around on HER deck, looking for HER. Real talent there, damn it!

"Kongou, I need some water" I sighed.

Kongou's changed expression clearly told that I may go flying overboard next second, so I hastily elaborated:

"Fresh water!"

"Why?"

"Because humans need to drink!" I freaked. "And eat! And wash! We, bastards, wither and die without it! If you got yourself a hamster, you need to take care of it!"

Truthfully, it was obvious that she already wasn't thrilled about getting herself this particular "hamster", but I didn't care. I was utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Tired, I plopped down on the deck, leant back against the wall of the aft superstructure, and clutched my head with my hands, rubbing my aching temples.

"Kongou, listen, let me try to explain. Yesterday I lived quietly in 2016, in my native world, among humans. I had a job, an apartment, friends and eight days of vacation ahead! And now I have nothing! Nothing at all, you understand? The world where I've lived all my life is gone! I'm on board of the ship that I've only seen in a stupid cartoon before, in the middle of the ocean, for fuck knows how many kilometers from the shore and in a completely foreign world! I don't even understand why I'm talking to you right now, instead of banging my head on the deck and yelling, "Return me home!"."

"Would that change anything?" she asked in bewilderment.

"No. But the first human reaction to a sudden change in situation is usually denial. Humans simply do not believe when the absurd happens."

"That's stupid."

"Oh, yes. Stupidity is something that humans have in abundance."

I can't say that Kongo mellowed from my pitiful history, but she relented a bit.

She even caught me a fish. In very... exotic way. She jumped overboard, stood (stood!), on the waves for a second, searching for something, then quickly crouched, put her hand in the water, and jumped back on deck clutching a half-meter fish. Then squeamishly shoved her catch to me.

Then she left, leaving me with my jaw hanging.

How I was going to cut this fish with a Swiss knife, was obviously my problem, not hers.

Kongou

"It would've been better if I really got a hamster", Kongou silently sighed, after finding in the tactical network that this word denoted an ordinary small rodent.

Climbing back on her bridge wing, as she usually settled there when resting, she drew her feet under her and wearily massaged the bridge of her avatar's nose.

The human was far more irksome than she had imagined. He was completely helpless! How could his species survive on this planet, let alone become the dominant one?

He was messing with the fish now. For some reason he hadn't simply eaten it, but started to clean off the scales with a tiny blade, hissing and cursing all the while.

He suddenly stopped, then he shook his head, perplexed.

"Uh… Kongou, can you get me a cookware? A heat-resistant one?"

Kongou was surprised by the fact he asked without seeing her avatar! Had he realized that since she was the ship itself, she can perfectly see and hear him, even without her Mental Model nearby? Moreover, he had specified the characteristics of the requested object! Well, one of them. But this is a huge progress. Perhaps if she continued to communicate with him, his computing resources would increase even more? Should she try it?

After a moment of reflection, Kongou abandoned this idea. Judging by the speed of development, her patience would run out before any noticeable results would appear. Easier to analyze the situation herself.

So, he needs a cookware. Of unknown kind, as its only voiced characteristic was "heat-resistant". However, the required coefficient of heat resistance was also unknown.

A short search in the network gave too many options, as the term "cookware" meant many vessels of different shapes and volumes, made from different materials on top of that.

It was too troublesome to try to understand all this, so she just chose one of the sets as a sample, and selected one with increased durability and wear and heat resistance. Better make it within good margin.

So, what else was he asking for? A heat source? Alas, he couldn't state the exact thermal energy required, and only gave the approximate reference indicating "temperature of an open flame". No, he's hopeless.

Viktor

Life is getting better! There is water, food, pan, and even… uh… I doubtfully looked at a circle two centimeters diameter, slightly raised over the deck surface, with a quiver of hot air over it. Let's just call it a "burner".

Definitely better!

After I finally finished gutting the fish, I put it in the pan which in turn was put on the burner, and started cleaning the mess.

First, it is unpleasant to sit among the giblets, and second, the local hostess can clean up by washing the mess off the deck. Along with the culprit. So, cleanliness is good not only for health, but also for survival.

After a quick clean up, I sat down near the pot, eagerly inhaling the smells. Fooood! But why aren't you boiling, you pesky thing? I waited for about ten minutes. Zero results. Brought my hand to the burner - hot. Stuck my finger in the water - cold. Waited another ten minutes. Forget boiling, the water hasn't even warmed up. I began to suspect that something was wrong.

"Kongou, what is the thermal conductivity of this pan?"

A small holographic screen showing Kongou's disgruntled face unrolled before me.

"Point three hundredths."

It's good that I choked on air, and the first two dozen words that got stuck in my throat. Three hundredths! Three times less than that of wood! I'm trying to fucking boil water in a saucepan that is more suitable for covering the inside of a jet engine nozzle!

Realizing that my fingers were scratching the deck, as if trying to grab and shake a certain blonde I know, and that my eyes were wildly searching for something heavy, I took a deep breath.

Then, slowly, clearly pronouncing each word, said:

"Kongou. The water in the pan is supposed to heat up. To its boiling point. That's why pans are made of metal. Steel. Cast iron. Aluminum."

I took another deep breath and counted to ten.

"But not from a material that space shuttles are encased in so they would not burn up upon entering the atmosphere!"

Kongou grimaced, and a three-dimensional hologram appeared in the air. It quickly filled with a fog of nanomaterial, which instantly hardened into a given form, and I became the proud owner of another set of pans.

In the new pans, water boiled in minutes.

Umm, if only I had some bay leaves, potatoes, onions... or at least some salt.

After tasting my brew I paused to think. Deep thinking.

Eating tasteless fish is unpleasant and mostly useless. But I'm afraid to ask for some salt. The blonde would synthesize it, she's mean enough. But…

Although salt is simply sodium chloride, what can you do wrong with it?

My gaze fell on the first pan.

God knows, she's talented. It will be easier to get salt by evaporation, after all I have the whole sea full of salt water. Or maybe not? After all, chemically pure salt is harmless, and who knows what impurities I will get from the sea here. Man, it's a risk, either way.

Another minute of tormented doubts and a piece of tasteless fish later and I sighed:

"Kongou, humans need salt, about ten grams a day."

"Salt?" again, the screen and dissatisfied look.

"Well, yes, salt. Sodium chloride. Can you make it?"

Her expression resembled that of some world famous artist, who was being tugged at their sleeve by a child who asked: "Mister, can you draw a square?" and then a mound of white powder appeared on a small area on the deck. Which was immediately blown away by the wind.

With a heavy sigh, I followed the quickly disappearing white stripes with my gaze and turned back to the screen, and caught the look of immense surprise on Kongou's face then an expression of momentary embarrassment which immediately changed back into cold detachment. Like, ignore it, this was just an experiment.

The second time, a cup full of salt was formed on the deck. With a lid.

"Thank you," I nodded in the direction of already disappeared screen.

Well, she is blonde, what can you do?

Beta'd by UnfortuWatcher


	3. Chapter 3: Alive

Episode 3. Alive

Kongo

Kongo's mood was downright atrocious. Literally everything was irritating: the mirror surface of the sea, the prowling repair ship, the man snoring a meter away, and most importantly — the unknown.

Her squadron was on the way to the quadrangle, where the destroyers of the First squadron were aimlessly drifting. Aimlessly, because their leader - the heavy cruiser "Maya" - had stopped responding. Or more accurately, according to the information provided by her accompanying destroyers, she had turned off all systems and was now just drifting in the middle of the sea, without any signs of life. Well, almost no signs, for there was one still present: the destroyers had transferred an image with Maya's avatar clearly visible on the forecastle deck of the silent ship.

Kongo was mystified as to how it could have happened and therefore was in a strange state. She was perfectly aware that the personality matrix embedded in "Maya's" core was fake and that after the deactivation of the I-400 and I-402, this matrix should have crumbled with no control signals, yet... because of the received image, somewhere in the depths of her consciousness an absolutely stupid hope glimmered that there was some mistake, that Maya was all right, and that the moment they met, she would be buried under a waterfall of complaints and reproaches from Maya, who would jump onto her deck as usual without so much as a by-your-leave, and would run around, waving her hands and indignantly exclaiming: "Kongo, can you imagine, I... and she... and they...! Kongo, you're not listening me again!".

"So, what happened there? Do you know?" The human standing nearby asked thoughtfully.

Kongo barely suppressed an annoyed sigh. Not only was there something incomprehensible happening, she was barely making fifty knots so that the repair ship that had joined the ranks could keep up with them, there was still the man with his ill-timed curiosity.

"No. When the I-400 and I-402 tried to use Maya's channel to bypass my defenses, I had simply excluded her from the Navy's network."

"So, the girls were trying to get into your systems through "Maya"?"

"Yes. As leader of the First squadron she had a direct line of communication."

The human nodded with understanding and smiled wryly.

"The channel which you had not particularly protected, because you trusted her. Crafty bi... lolitas."

Kongo kept silent, not believing the need to comment on the obvious, and instead switched her attention to the destroyers. The ships of her forward watch had already come into contact with the outer guards of the first squadron.

They were almost there.

Victor

Enjoy, the Repin's painting "Unexpected". (1)

I wiped my forehead with a trembling hand, barely preventing myself from closing my eyes and covering my ears.

FUBAR. That's the only way to put it.

A dead ship swayed on the waves, a laughing girl in a bright red dress spun in a dance like a wind-up toy on its deck.

Occasionally she froze, threw up her hands, and mechanically exclaimed:

"Carnival! Let it be a carnival!"

And started spinning again. And laughing. Again. And again. Without end.

Like a broken record where a needle jumps from track to track. ""Carrrnival...zip... carrrnival...zzzip…»

"Kongo, can you... stop her?"

The girl suddenly stumbled and fell on the deck like a doll with its strings cut.

Holy shit. I wonder, if the water on my forehead was from spray drops or from cold sweat?

Kongo

Kongo closed her eyes for a second, feeling as deep inside her something broke, and sensed as the repair systems desperately tried to find the malfunction, then confusedly stopped. After all, you could not fix that which was not there. Even if it hurt.

A glitch, just a system glitch. Maya's core was unable to complete the program and was stuck in a loop.

Hope really was a stupid feeling.

Gently, as if reluctant to disturb, Kongo touched boards with the now completely disconnected "Maya" and without realizing what she was doing, jumped ships, and knelt next to the lifeless avatar.

The man joined her while she wasn't paying attention and knelt next to her, and before she could interfere, he ran a hand across projection's face, lowering her eyelids.

"When someone dies, you close their eyes as a last tribute of respect" he explained cryptically.

"She wasn't alive" Kongo threw impassively.

"Really? What does it even mean to be alive?"

Kongo was silent. Probably because she didn't know the answer. This Maya wasn't a mental model, just a program, a doll, a line of code. But then why did she feel like she had lost a part of herself?

"Kongo, what would happen with it... her... with "Maya" now?" The human suddenly asked.

"Why do you care about her?"

"I don't know. It's just ... Maya is a beautiful ship, you can't leave her without a soul. That's wrong."

"Soul?"

"Well... yeah. You see, in my world, sailors thought every ship has a soul. That it's not just a set of mechanisms enclosed in a box of armor, but that it's alive. That each one has their own character, their own fate... because even built based on the same blueprint, they are never quite the same, same as people. And your avatars, your projections ... they are like the embodiments of a ship. You smile, get angry, get sad ... live, in other words. I'm sorry, I'm not being eloquent, but can't explain it any better."

Alive ... Kongo arose to her feet.

"You ask about Maya's future, but not your own. Why?"

The human shrugged indifferently.

"What's the point? I can't influence it in any way. Well, I can fall on my knees and beg "Let me go, please!" Would that change anything? Would you let me go?"

"Fifty miles to the South-East from here is the Hokkaido island."

"Uh... So what?" The human gave her a blank stare.

Instead of responding, Kongo pointed to a destroyer from the patrol group that approached from Maya's other side.

"There are humans there, your people."

The human turned his head in bewilderment, then opened his mouth, as if intending to ask something, lingered for another moment, and, without saying anything, went to the ladder that appeared over the edge of the board.

"Victor..." Unexpectedly for herself, she called out to him, "how do humans bury their dead?"

The man stopped. Looked back.

"In the sea, Kongo. According to the custom, those who live in the sea are laid to rest in the sea."

Beta'd by UnfortuWatcher


	4. Chapter 4: Island

Episode 4. The Island

 **Victor**

Well, I'm Robinson, again. But now on the island, among people. Unfortunately the situation is not as good as I would like. No food, no money, no prospects. Only, with a roof over the head there are no problems, the thrown houses in the former port area suffice. People left this place at the first opportunity, because they are very afraid "of demons coming out of the fog». Even the police prefer not to appear near the shore-so, occasionally a patrol car will pass, and the drone will fly in the sky.

After a couple of days on solid ground, I realized that if I did not do anything, I would die here. because there is no work here even for locals, and to go to the city without documents and without knowledge of Japanese... However, there too work not to find.

In the end, I joined those who are finally desperate, to those who fish in the Bay . Well, as joined-just took the first boat and swam. When the owner of the boat came running, I was a hundred meters from the shore oars waved.  
Oh, for a long time I was trying to figure out how to use a fishing net. Quite unaccustomed to this business while in the city lived. But I caught a lot in the end. fish here is innumerable, industrial fishing has not existed for a long time.

Back on shore, and there are already about ten people gathered. I thought they were gonna hit me, and they're staring at me like on a Ghost. It turns out that even those who are completely crazy, do not dare to leave the Bay, and I almost swam into the sea.

I percent on ninety was sure that the ordinary destroyer of Fog on the wooden boat with oars won't shoot and they don't approach close to the coast. Even the one that took me to the island, two kilometers to the ground landed. Well at least on the raft, and not directly into the water.

But to explain this to the locals, I could not, they are already excited. They said something in Japanese and gave me a nickname: "Crazy gaijin".

When I heard about it, I imagined myself a real hero from the movies. I even looked around.

What if I'm lucky? Formidable nickname is already there, then it should come the wise old Sensei, will take me under his wing, will teach the secret of the Shanghai Wushu ninja, share with me wisdom, give me money... And then he'll be the last of any kind and recognize me as a chosen one must save the world. It's a classic Hollywood story!

But no luck. I mean, Sensei, it appeared, but just took two-thirds of the catch, as the owner of the boat, took. miser.  
Well, hell with him, in the face not smack me and that's fine. And real Sensei did not reach yet, probably. Well, or it got lost because of senility.

That's how I live now. I mean surviving. A day at sea for the fish, in the evening to the seller with a fish, after to my hovel, to cook the fish. I'll soon cover myself with scales.

Shaking my head to ward off dark thoughts, I squinted at the fat dealer poking his sausage-shaped finger into the electronic scale and winced. Well, what the hell is he measuring the third time? I clearly did not quarrel, not with my status here to demand something.

From nothing to do, looked around the room of the shop and once again suppressed an envious sigh. Beautiful life is not forbidden. The light bulb under the ceiling shines, the coffee maker on the table, even the air conditioner rustles! Fat, bastard. My income is only enough for a finger flashlight, because in today's Japan a lousy battery for a mobile phone is worth charging as much as if it is poured with pure gold.

"Your money, Viktor-San" the fat guy finally graduated to measure something, put it on the counter a wad of yen.  
"Thank you, Kimura-San, taking the money and bowing, and bowing, for it is supposed to bow down to such a distinguished man because he paid attention to me."  
Man, as soon as the Japanese back does not fall off? They same on every word bow!  
Having got out of the shop, I immediately separated from a thin pack of money for water, energy, shoes, bread... Skeptically counting the remaining bread decided not to buy. Otherwise, the new fishing net money is not enough,and it is better to change now, when such a good day will be.

Glancing at the old mechanical clock, figured that if I hurry, I will have time to catch uncle Ho. If you buy, then buy the best. The old man has every fishing net - like the art! He understands this, because he once started from a boat and as much as the owner of his own fishing company managed to climb until the blockade of the Fog began.  
Decided! Buy uncle Ho his "art", and the bread... well, bypass the market from the South, so saliva does not choke, and will be back for the fish to chew.  
Just need to hurry, the rain begins.

 **Kongo**

Rain.  
If there's one thing Kongo didn't like, it's rain. Especially so, for small, disgusting pattering on the deck and the armor add ons, why it seemed that the whole body itches. Plus, falling from the sky drops of water interfered with the radar, and the avatar had to hide inside the fighting cabin, because the hair instantly wet, sticking together like icicles.  
And in this weather somehow stronger just felt lonely and attracted strange melancholy. Which is now joined by memories.  
Maya didn't like the rain too. If they went in one order, it was accepted to rush circles at full speed, claiming that then the speed of drops develops with the speed of the ship and it any more under a rain, and under a downpour. That is an entirely different matter, because even the name is different! Or even dive under the water, leaving only the surface the navigating bridge.

"Kongo, look, I'm underwater buttleship!"  
"Maybe a submarine?»  
"No, being a submarine is boring!"

But now the lifeless body of "Maya" is in the dry dock repair facilities for flagships, and around only numbered destroyers who are indifferent to the rain and her mood.  
Evil shaking his head, Kongo caught himself on the desire to raise from the bottom of the core of the 400th and 402 th, to create their bodys, and then drown again. And personally, find and sink the same type with them I-401.  
Positively, the whole "four hundredth" series – is big continuous error!

I-400 and I-402 conspired to remove her from command, and I-401 generally sided with the people. And not just sided, but also got a crew! Crew of people on the Fog boat! This is nonsens. But over the last two years of this "nonsense" it cost the fleet two destroyers, battleship, light cruiser, heavy cruiser, and now the two battle cruisers! One submarine with a bunch of people on Board drowned almost a third of the heavy ships of the Second Eastern fleet! I just can't get over it. However, according to information from the radar post, in the battle on the roads of Yokosuka, where he was destroyed, "Haruna" and "Kirishima", I-401 worked together with the human ships. But judging by the interception of communications, all the battle tactics were developed I-401. More precisely, being on Board her man Gonzo Chihaya.

Kongo wearily massaged temples, once again analyzing the events of recent weeks.  
But this human, Victor, warned her. But how could believe such nonsense?! That one submarine, and even with a crew of people, is able to cope with two battlecruisers!  
And here is the result: _Hugo_ has gone missing, mental projection _Haruna_ and _Kirishima_ , miraculously survived after the battle in the Harbor, now hiding in a human city, and _Takao_ said what she would not return to the fleet, instead going to look for a captain! Certainly, the situation is not only out of control, but in General beyond common sense.

With a heavy sigh, Kongo blankly stared at the flowing glass streams of water.  
Information. So little information. Gonzo Chihaya. Why is the I-401 following his orders? Why did the other ships that came into contact with him dramatically change their behavior? _Takao, Kirishima, Haruna_... Incomprehensibly.  
Although, people cannot be understand. So in this it was convinced on own experience.  
Thoughts Kongo switched to the man caught from the water. So strange, with his crazy stories, silly things... and questions. Also weird and stupid.

A gust of wind came and threw a handful of drops on the window, and the Kongo grimaced again.  
I wonder what would man be doing right now? People don't like rain too. Probably first ran across the deck, swore, called her. Then he would have to be brought up here, in the heat, and he would be sitting next to him, staring out the window, coupled with rhetorical comments.  
Kongo unwittingly snort from painted imagination paintings.  
But she would not have been sad and lonely. Miss and yearn with this man did not work.  
I wonder what happened to him?

 **Victor**

Wait, I'm either paranoid or somthing else. Stopping, I looked to somehow deliberately carelessly sitting on the parapet of three man's.  
These guys don't look like local ragamuffins. Dressed well, and in movements a sort of laziness of regional "owners of life" slips.  
Realizing that they were noticed, the Trinity, having exchanged a few words, rose to his feet, moving towards me.  
So, it's time to apply the most powerful martial art — running.  
Alas, escape was nowhere, from behind came two more.  
"Gaijin, have you heard that you have to pay for everything?" lazily asked the tallest of the trio, tapping his shoulder with a boken.

Oh, man, the banal racket. Kill not kill, perhaps, but they rib me count efficiently. What the fuck am I doing on the boardwalk again?! Not bad luck same me on them, should was already figure out!  
A punch in the gut was not that strong, more like a greeting, but I carefully bent, showing off how bad I feel... and butted one of them with his head, freeing a path to retreat, ready to run not just fast, but very fast.  
Just not had time to make pair of steps as flew from the asphalt deft step.

Immediately kicked in the sternum. Now seriously. It fucking hurts. Oh, and here is the offended in a hurry to pay.  
"Goodbye, Victor," sighed the consciousness, noting the boken flying directly into my temple.  
No flight. A centimeter from my head, right in the way of a piece of wood, suddenly a translucent hexagonal plate appeared.

"Hey, what the...?" one of them looked up dumbfounded and dropped his jaw.  
Well, Yes, I would also be very surprised to meet here a graceful blonde in an evening dress.  
What the... finish the racketeer did not, as whistling in the air purple needle threw him two meters away, pinning to the ground.  
Hmm, weird. In the cartoon, Kongo a five-meter blades made of snowflakes waving, and then some eagle shooting. Whoa! Knew that the ships of the Fog is strong, but so casually, to grab the big guy by the neck and casually stab them on the ground that much of the dust went…  
Remaining on his feet the trio showed miracles of ingenuity, simultaneously jerked to escape.  
I mentally argued with myself for a thousand yen. Won, of course. Well, clearly convinced that to run from the fog ships useless.

Kongo came to me. Stopped. So close that I unwittingly received an answer to the question. Tights she has all same, not stockings. Black ones with pretty lace shorts. Well, that's what I thought.

Stop, stop lying there, or she'll think I'm looking up her skirt and be offended. Mortally. But how timely it came. Even too on time.  
"Kongo, how long have you been watching me?" I croaked, rising to my feet with some difficulty.  
"Two days" calmly threw humanize, making even attempts to help.  
How much?! It is what the detective was playing I watching? Oh, nonsense!  
"But... how?"  
Humanize a little irritably grimaced.  
"You need time to recover the intellectual activity?"  
"Sorry, not understood."  
"The ship of radio engineering investigation is a part of a standard radar post."

Of course! Fog also control the entire coast radar posts. And the ship's electronic intelligence network of the police to crack as nothing to do. Well and further — a trick. This after all Japan around-there is nothing to guzzle, but on each column on the camera with the video recorder.  
"How did you end up here?"  
"Came into the next Bay, and here finely."  
"But in that Bay house flooded! Not even a kayak can squeeze through."  
At this time, Kongo is not even condescended to answer, just so expressively silent, that I could hardly keep from savory facepalm.  
Really stupid. If her body getting heavy RCC stand up, that's what some piles of concrete? Held by them like icebreaker on the frozen puddle. That's just why is still not howling sirens, helicopters do not fly, the army is not running? Local warriors just lazy, or what? Sleep through the visit of the cruiser! Or…

"Kongo, you hacked network of the coast guard too?"

"Yes."  
"Clearly."  
It turns out the army is not yet aware of the visit of the high guest, as the guest before the visit left them without communication and monitoring service data. Polite girl.  
Somehow otryahnuvshis, I sighed.  
"Okay, let's go then, it would be good to have time until the army began hysteria"  
"Where?"  
"Not far from here, to the shop, of bread even for the first time to buy. I hope you will provide me with fish?"

 **Kongo**

Walking beside human, Kongo was at a slight loss.  
Such behavior she did not expect. According to her calculations he had to try to run away, hide... or get scared at least! And he... walks here, with a dissatisfied look moving lips and on the tenth time counting papers which people use in system of a commodity exchange.  
"What you doing?"

"Money believe, that still. Shit! If I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have spent my stash the day before yesterday."  
Silently sighing, Kongo entered the local network to find out the place of storage of monetary units. Then she turned from the sidewalk to the metal box standing right on the street and, forming a wave field in the form of a plane, carefully, so as not to damage the papers stored in it, cut off the side part.  
"Is that enough?"

"Though for what" human edges scratched in the back of my head." I have never held so much in my hands.  
"For your purchases irritably" she said. "If not, in a hundred thirty metres away there is another store, grab, and go.

Human did not move, but his gaze was strange, and somehow unpleasant."  
"Kongo, you understand, this money… - he showed her his greasy pieces of paper - I earned. Myself. But this is... — then he poked his toe in out of the ATM bill - not even a theft, but a sop. No thanks.  
Then he moved down the street, leaving her in complete confusion.

 **Victor**

Damn, I don't know what came over me, I kind of had a special sensitivity did not differ, but here is her careless: "here, take as much as you need.", really pissed.

Caught up with me Kongo passionately noticed:  
"You don't want to accept help, but you expect me to fish for you."  
Yeah, yeah, thanks for reminding me.

"Does this help?" gloomily grunted I" That money wasn't yours. As for the fish, I'll work it off. Consider me a ship's cat. You catch fish for me, I'll purr in your ear, comfort creating. It's fair.  
"Are you not afraid" mused she, or asking, or stating the fact.  
"Afraid. But not too much."  
"Why?"

Because actually most people are not afraid of death itself, but that with death they lose everything. I have nothing to lose, I already lost home, family, friends, my world.

"Lost everything?" with a touch of surprise asked Kongo. "You're among people now."  
"These are not my people," I grimaced, remembering the attempts at least the minimum to get into the local community. "You make me feel better than them."  
Here she was surprised for real.  
"Me?!"

"Yeah. I know you're not a human, respectively, and not expecting human reactions. Well, you, in turn, make a discount on the fact that I'm not out of the Fog. And with the locals ... like people, but other people. Damn, hard to explain, but the difference in mentality is very big. West is West, East is East... and I'm from Russia."  
Kongo even slowed down, uncomprehending clapping eyelashes.  
Sighing heavily, I tried to explain:  
"There is a Western mentality, there is an Eastern mentality. Living in the West does not understand Eastern culture, living in the East don't understand West, and Russians no one understands, including themselves"  
After a moment's silence, this blonde seemed to even nodded to herself with satisfaction.  
"You're special among people."

It was my turn to blink my eyes in confusion.  
I don't get it, is that what she just called me the chosen One?!  
Rubbing my forehead, I sighed again:  
"Not special, just Russian. There's a hundred and forty million of us."

 **Kongo**

One hundred and forty million? Like this? Humanity is doomed.  
True voice this conclusion Kongo is not. Something to destroy the illusion? People are doing just fine on their own. However, as with other destructions.  
The deserted street they were walking on looked like after the shelling. Dilapidated, rickety houses interspersed with ruins, cracked road surface in some places overgrown with grass and gaping with failures…  
Kongo even looked into the tactical network to make sure that the fighting was not conducted here.  
"They're not afraid either?" unable to stand, she asked, noting signs of human habitation in the house, which only by miracle has not yet collapsed.  
The man looked round blankly.  
"Who?"

"Other people. How they live?"  
"They don't live," he shrugged.  
And in response to a puzzled look — on the second floor of the house by which they passed, at this moment two women appeared, having begun to hang up wet linen-added:  
"They survive. Those who could, have already left and those who remained, to go nowhere."  
"Why?"  
"Who needs them? There" the man waved his hand deep into the island" is lots of hungry mouths.  
"And they always ... survived like that?"  
"Of course not. They used to earn at sea - who worked in the port, who caught fish, who in the merchant Navy. And now, here, everyone survives as they can."

Kongo involuntarily frowned. She never thought about how the blockade affects people, but now, seeing the consequences, a little confused. On the one hand, what does she care about the fact that the local population was left without means of livelihood, and on the other, before its fleet was not the task of its destruction. And it turns out that she, as the leader, disrupts the installation of the Admiralty code!

Kongo for a second even fell out of reality, throwing all the resources of the kernel to calculate the algorithms for the task of blockade of the Islands... but, banishing all possible options, calmed down.  
The extinction of people in coastal areas should be seen as collateral damage. Which in the performance of combat missions, of course, should be avoided, but only to the extent possible. So everything is within the framework of the basic directives and there are no violations on its part.

"You soon?" she took an interest when the person, having talked about something with the woman sitting under a leaky canopy, gave some of the pieces of paper, having received in exchange a small parcel.  
The whole walk she is rather tired. Dusty, dirty streets, bad smell and looking down people. Let past was a bit, but nevertheless.

"One more go, and I'm all yours" said human, hiding the bundle in a huge bag, which he had purchased on the way.  
Another place was a small shop, where they were met by an old man, with whom her companion immediately struck up a conversation. Kongo from idleness began to consider the regiments filled with any stuff while its attention was not attracted by the unclear mechanism which is on one of them.

Coming closer, she curiously scanned the device consisting of many details, and was surprised to recognize it as a device for measuring time. Mechanical! That is, not on the quantum effect, but on the potential energy of the deformed metal! Fantastic! But why would they create such a thing if the error of calculations would still be at least three or even four seconds a year, when even a primitive counter on the cesium atoms is a million times more accurate? Incomprehensibly.  
Unwittingly carried away, she began to calculate the system of interaction of pendulums, springs and counterweights, marveling at the complexity of this meaningless device.

"It's a chronometer, mylady" said the old man who noticed her interest. "But it is no longer working, and repair it... — the man sighed — no more such masters.  
Kongo, just glancing at him, went back to scanning.  
So, it also worked?! Very interesting. Scheme with so many critical points…  
Two minutes later, she found a possible cause of failure. According to the built model, this lever was supposed to reach the gear, but it has worn off and now just slips. And that spring over there has lost its elasticity due to the aging of the metal.  
But in General, the scheme is funny, although the meaning of creating such a device is still unclear. Maybe this is a sample of human art?  
"All right Kongo, let's go" her human has his bag on his shoulder and bowed to the old. "good luck, uncle Ho."

 **uncle Ho**

After seeing the guests to the threshold, old Hoshimoto locked the door and rubbing his sore lower back in the evening, returned to the shop.  
A strange couple, very strange. Okay Victor, he already along time here here, but came with him gaijin... stood like some kind of lady. And the clothes, the eyes... all time it seemed that they have it in red. Lenses, probably. Oh, these girls, then all sorts of nonsense in the eye insert, the hair is not clear what to paint, then dress up as an actress. One word - dissolute.  
Shaking his head disapprovingly, he flipped a switch and moved toward the living room, but froze halfway.  
In room clearly something has changed. But what?  
Here the old man's eye widened in surprise, and his lips themselves began to mutter a prayer Amaterasu-Omikami.  
Chronometer, which is more than fifty years of dust on the shelf, now slowly ticking, counting the seconds.


	5. Interlude I

Interlude I

After listening to the last speaker, Ichiro Sakai silently sighed and massaged his nose. Then he gently cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the room.

All talks instantly subsided and the people present in the room turned in the direction of the personal representative of the Prime Minister Osakabe.

"Gentlemen..." Ichigo interlocked his fingers, looking around into the eyes of the audience. "Gentlemen, I have listened to you attentively, and now let's try to summarize. We have on this island and out of nowhere there is a foreigner. After more than a week of living in slums, earning a living by fishing, then he is attacked by some racketeers from a street gang, who then are killed by a suddenly appearing projection of a Fog ship, then-"

"Battlecruiser, sir," interrupted the head of the police Department. "According to the Coast Guard, it was a Kongo-class battlecruiser."

Interrupted mid-sentence, Ichiro pierced the police officer with an icy stare, and mockingly stated:

"Of course, it changes the whole thing!"

"P-please forgive me, sir." The reddened-faced man jumped up hurriedly and bowed, acknowledging his guilt.

Ichiro irritably waved his hand and continued:

"So, the projection kills the racketeers then accompanies man to the shops, after which they leave the island together on the Fog ship."

Having paused, he once again looked around the heads of services and departments and briefly lingered on each face.

"Gentlemen, can someone please explain what this means?"

His answer was absolute silence.

Beta'd by UnfortuWatcher


	6. Chapter 5: Yatch club

Episode 5 Yachts Club

Well, back to where we started. Again the deck under your feet, the sea on the horizon and a beautiful girl nearby.

R-romance so much that as many teeth beat out drumming. Fresh air, it's fucking so fresh.

Having shivered, I tried to squeeze myself into jeans.

\- K-Kongo, can you create a "dome"? - It's c-cold.

The foggy girl standing nearby glanced at me with some kind of doom, as if she was just waiting for a similar question. Then, she waved her hand towards the central superstructure.

\- I have a cabin. An acceptable temperature is maintained there.

Raising my head, I followed her gesture, saw the conning tower about at the level of the sixth floor and thought. Because the stairs leading to it were not observed. Maybe the staircase is inside the superstructure? But where is the door inside then?

\- Em... how to get there?"

The foggy girl looked up and frowned blankly. Like, what problems? There are fifteen meters high, not more.

I see. There are no stairs, it is assumed that I myself must climb.

\- Kongo, the world record for high jumps is two and a half meters - I sighed heavily - And before your cabin, even Bubka with the pole will not jump.

A sadly tired expression flashed on the face of the foggy girl, and I really felt, with my skin, not expressed out loud: "how are you, man, tired me with your simplicity." But then the familiar cold-disguised mask returned and a chain of translucent tiles hanging right in the air was formed from our feet to the ship's bridge. Neat such. Square with my palm each.

I looked no less tired and wistful at the fog woman.

\- Kongo, have you forgotten anything? -

She shuddered in disgust, and curled her lips.

\- They will sustain your weight. - And as if in a demonstration, quickly climbed these steps a couple of meters.

\- I'm talking about something else - I sighed, looking at the blonde, quietly standing on a tile the size of a little more than her shoe - You forgot to give me a pole.

\- Which pole? - she wondered eyebrows.

\- With which the tightrope walkers keep their balance! - not holding back, I hissed. - Because even a circus gymnast will fall from this ladder!

Hmm, did it seem to me now or did someone really whistle in the air through their snow-white teeth?

... and, silently turning, slowly walked upstairs. Leaning with the right hand on the railing, which appeared half a meter from the steps.

Hmm. I actually hoped that this blonde would make a normal staircase.

Oh, okay, put aside the conversations, let's ahead and up, and there …

Rising along plates the size of pavement tiles to the height of the sixth floor ... is an extreme attraction. Especially with side rolling and strong wind. I was not only warmed up, it became hot for me. And when I finally got to the conning tower, I had to literally crawl inside, on all fours. Under the frankly surprised look of a foggy girl.

In another situation, perhaps, it would be a shame to shake like a washed-up fish under the eyes of a beautiful girl... but now I just wanted to crawl somewhere in the corner and catch my breath. And then simple Russian words to explain this... girl all what I think about extreme sports.

Fortunately, shortness of breath prevented immediately throw out emotional impulses, and when I took control, I did not scold her.

She's blonde, what you require of it?

Well, except for aesthetics, because really beautiful.  
Speaking of which, the avatar of the Kongo look like a woman as well as her body on the Japanese cruiser "Kongo". But only from afar and silhouette. Because in reality such perfect girls do not exist.  
High chest, slim waist, graceful hip line and beautiful long slender legs... the whole figure is absolutely harmonious. As if it was invented on a computer, and then created on a precision machine. Strictly according to the state requirements for product quality and with micron error.

You can sit and watch for hours.  
She noticed. She opened her eyes, questioningly raised eyebrow.  
\- Admiring - I said without thinking.  
The eyebrow went down, expressing mild surprise.  
— You have very beautiful avatar like is calculated.  
Lips curve in an unhappy grimace. Damn, she's gonna think bad about my IQ right now.  
\- Yes, I realized that it is calculated and it is perfect.  
A silent sigh, which barely noticeably swayed dress on her chest, silently she closed eyes.  
So we talked.

 **Kongo**

Kongo has once again tried to analyse how much of a mistake she has made by putting this man back on her deck. That this was a bad decision, she already understood, but how bad?  
So, it turns out that all people, among other things, there is no sense of balance! How do they even move?! Oh, Yes, they just get on all fours if necessary. Logically.  
And what she should do now with this mess, that sits in her cabin, intently sniffs and ask…  
— Kongo, I'm sorry, can I ask?  
…stupid questions.

Suppressing a heavy sigh, she turned slightly to his side.  
— Ask.  
\- I'm sorry, perhaps, question indiscreet, but where you sleep? - the man spoke rapidly. — No, it is clear that sleep in the human sense, you don't need, but the rest is needed?  
Involuntarily her eyes, Kongo looked at him with a rather surprising for herself pity. Still, it is unfair to him, I guess. With this level of intelligence, even among humans, it must be hard, and he survived somehow.

The man, catching her gaze, waved his hands.  
\- Wait, wait, don't look at me like that, I realized that the ocean is big and Parking problems it does not happen. But different. When you... well, let it be "tired", you go into drift, you put all the systems in" sleep " mode, and as if you were asleep. The core defragments and sorts the accumulated information, the repair and recovery system eliminates the inevitable minor damage, carries out the prevention of mechanisms, and so on. Right?

\- A primitive analogy - she said coldly, wincing inwardly at the comparison.  
\- But nevertheless, correct?  
\- Somewhat true.

\- Great! - it is unclear what rejoiced man. — So you're asleep, all on the low, where sleeps your avatar?  
Kongo hopelessly indeed. And what is this question better than the first?  
Doesn't she have enough horizontal surfaces on Board? Although, of course, it is most pleasant to fall asleep on the wing of the bridge, when the sun slightly warms the skin of the avatar, and a small wave shakes the ship.  
What she said to the man, hoping that he would stop pestering her with their nonsense. Alas, in vain, the man did not calm down.

\- Really?! I do like to sit on the crow's nest, it's like, not cold? Not hard?  
— If necessary, I can always heat the section of the deck under the avatar, she barely restrained irritation.  
\- OK, that is to spend resources on heating the body at a certain point - this is normal, but just to make a pillow there, so that under the booty it is warm and soft — this is a change of basics?  
— I don't need human excesses, - she declared, however, any more not so surely. The pillow idea seemed ... a little interesting.

\- No, this is not an excess! - the man exclaimed with annoyance and waved his hand to the forecastle: - Over there, the towers of the main caliber are now on your stoppers, isn't it excess? You can just keep the drives.

Drives?! Kongo opened her mouth to explain to this ... man the whole amount of his stupidity, however, he did not allow her to insert a word, hurriedly continuing:

\- And they are on the stoppers, because it is more convenient, you do not need to spend resources. But why do you care about the towers, but not about the avatar? Where is logic?

It's him! Tells her! About logic?

Feeling that a little more, and she just explodes, Kongo silently rose and left the cabin.  
A second hesitation, jumped to the crow's nest area and settled at the edge of the platform, as usual hugging her knees.  
Communication with this person can bring out of balance anyone. Surely it is his own countrymens in the sea thrown. Just for similar "logic".  
Leaning back in her arms, she involuntarily winced-the metal that had cooled during the night had not yet had time to heat up and therefore unpleasantly cooled the body.

Maybe I should really make a pillow. After all, if you calculate the consumption of resources for both operations: periodic heating and a single creation of the object, the second in the future is more economical.  
Realizing what she's doing now, Kongo nearly hissed, and irritation flashed with new force. Damn the man with his crazy logic! After all, yesterday she would not even think about such a trifle, and now, calculates.

But the result has already been obtained. She can, of course, ignore it, but…  
Evil shaking her head, Kongo jumped to her feet, quickly marked the site area, spent a couple of seconds on the selection of the characteristics of the future object — soft, heat-insulating, waterproof- and creating a matrix filled with nanomaterial.  
With out a doubt glance at the result, touched the resulting coating by hand, carefully sat down, fidgeted, getting comfortable, and finally, he froze, listening to the sensations of the avatar.  
Hmm, indeed, much more comfortable.

Settling down already freer, sighed. Okay, I have to admit, this time, the man was right. Which, however,does not mean anything, because it fits into the statistical error.  
After all, he says so much that simply by the law of large numbers he should have been right at least once.

 **Victor**

Yeah, I think my blonde was a little offended. There she flew off the bridge. It's a good thing it's a little bit, otherwise I'd be the one ... who flew off.  
Also rising, I once again examined the completely empty room.  
Yeah, the mansion never Royal — all the furniture only one... drawer pedestal... well, shit knows how to call the cube near one of the windows, which a minute ago was a girl sitting. Fuck, the situation is even worse than Spartan, and she lives here. Girl! The flagship of the fleet!

In a slight shock I shook my head — that's certainly the mind of the unearthly — I went to the window and looked down, involuntarily whistling.  
God, Kongo, you're so huge!  
From the deck somehow is not felt, but when you look from above... like from the window of the nine-storey building in the yard peeking out. One half-deck is like two tennis courts, and on each tower you can open a street cafe. Impressive, and quite.

Interestingly as the avatar ships compliments to do? Guns are admired, like, "wow, what a great caliber!"? Or maybe the contours of the body? Or there speed course? However, my blonde at all points — the highest rating.

The trunks of the main caliber are large and long, the body is elegant, slender, like a sword blade, and the speed is such that not every destroyer will be stolen. Not just for fun its class is called "fast battleships". Ah and the avatar, too... so, emm... In short, "Miss Fog 2056."

By the way, why the hell did this miss take me off the island? Did she miss me or something?  
Outside, on the wing of the bridge irritably rattled heels, and went into the cabin itself Kongo. As usual with a dispassionate expression, but clearly not in the spirit. Stopped nearby and folded her hands on her chest, just staring out the window.  
Glancing at her — damn, is she really still mad? — I pulled myself together, deciding at once to clarify a question.

\- Kongo, can I ask you something? Since we're... uh... how would co-exist and... uh... well, discussion of what those you hate?  
\- What?  
\- Well, in human society there are topics, the discussion of which in everyday communication is unacceptable. Like intimate places on the body, or personal hygiene. Do you have any?

The girl was clearly puzzled.  
— Some internal systems, their appearance and way of functioning, after a pause, she said without confidence.  
Yep. I mean, it's like the "below the belt" rule, only they get "below the waterline"?

\- Correct me if I am wrong, cautiously I went on. — can I ask about what you have on deck, about the layout of your add-ons, weapons, but about the design of turbines, or where the number of engines it is better not to stutter?  
— Yes!

Um, was it just me or was she really embarrassed?  
\- This is... confidential information, - added girl ice tone.  
— Okay, I won't ask — hold back the smile, very seriously I nodded.  
Kongo gave me a suspicious look, but didn't say anything.  
With a moment, considering something outside the window, then, slightly detached said:  
\- You were talking about the avatar.  
\- Well, yas - I agreed. — I was said that beautiful.  
\- Not this, — is angry with shrugged it off she. - Why are you so surprised that the projection... rests right here?  
\- What do you mean, why?! - I was immediately indignant. - Look around you! In any prison conditions are better! At least there are bunks.

Kongo indeed looked around, is angry with wincing:  
\- What's supposed to be here?  
Hmm... really? Boudoir to advise her to put here? Oh, nonsense.  
\- The situation, at least! - I said after a moment's reflection. - Something from the space-futuristic interior. To and conveniently, and stylishly.  
\- Space-futuristic?

— Yeah. Such here is like... - I waved hands, drawing in the air slurred lines. - Style, simply put. So if someone sees your bridge, immediately realized that in front of him is not a barge, but the most perfect ship on Earth.

The girl thought, and I held my breath, crossing my fingers and toes.

\- And what does this style look like? - She asked doubtfully.

\- I will explain, - I hurried. - This is where the windows are, there should be a control panel ...

Realizing how this sounds in this situation, I explained:

\- In the sense of not controlling you, but information screens, like on the control panel. Sonar, radar, locator ...

\- What for?

\- Emm, emm …

But really, why all these displays if she receives information directly from the sensors?  
After some thought, I decided that honesty is the best policy. At least in this situation.  
\- First, for style, and second for me.

The look of the girl became so expressive that I hurried with the explanations:

\- Kongo, well, do you need to answer the questions every time: "what is seen there?", "how far?", "when will we be there?". But in this way I can observe for myself what is happening around. Is it logical?

On the face of Kongo for a split second, an expression of some kind of doom appeared, and her chest swayed in a silent breath.

I do not understand what it is with her? After all, logic must respect, artificial intelligence all the same.

\- Enough, I understand," she threw up her hand, interrupting the flow of arguments. - Tell me about the style.

\- Style ... style ... how to explain …

Then I came up with the idea. So good that I was speechless for a while. And then, slowly, afraid to startle luck, asked:  
\- Kongo, if you simply break the network of police and coast guard, so you can connect to the Internet?  
— The Internet as a single global network no longer exists - irritably, she said. - According to the Admiralty code directives, communication between the continents was interrupted.  
\- But after all segments something remained! Can you connect to them? At least to the Japanese?  
\- Why?  
Okay, breathe in, breathe out.  
\- For information.

Kongo hardly perceptible frowned, but still did it to me... God knows what it's called, the terminal, probably. In the air, there was already a familiar screen, only this time equipped with a holographic keyboard.  
I almost screamed with delight. It's ... It's ... information about the world! Not so much, through the prism of Japanese perception, but at least in General terms, I can find out what's going on around the world and how it came to such a life. But this later, now need to show miracles beliefs, and the to live will have here is in this super Spartan environment.  
Quickly typing "futuristic design" into the search bar, I nodded at the screen:  
— Here, look.  
The girl quietly but clearly he sighed, not even looking.  
\- The signal's going through my core.

"So, Victor, no porn sites! - like a whirlwind flashed through my mind a thought. "And in general, think that you are looking for, but do not look for what you think."

Of course, the designer of me is not very well, but Kongo, with a sense of proportions, measure, color scheme and all the rest, was in perfect order. So by the end of the day, her battle bridge looked like a cross between a billionaire's yacht and a spacecraft cabin.

Two-dimensional radar circle? Nah! A hologram! Volume! Displays the situation in real time. With a grid and so many different devices that when you try to understand them dizzy.  
Although Kongo itself, skeptically examining the result, snorted something about an extremely simplified representation.  
Well, in addition to this hologram there was a lot of screens and indicators with a variety of information. From the world map to the temperature of sea water.

But as soon as I got carried away I mentioned about the fact that it would be nice to have a scheme of her body, reflecting the state of the compartments and modules…

For a second it seemed to me that she would smack me in the face. With her eyes she flashed as if I had offered her a nude to take a picture and then hang a poster.

But in the end she agreed to the silhouette. Without details. And then another five minutes was squinting suspiciously, as if expecting that I'll cling to the picture, drooling and vulgary giggling.

Womens…  
And, of course, all this wealth did not have any control devices. Not a single button or sensor. Like, you can look, but don't touch.  
All right. But were chairs. Soft, comfortable, rotating, which in any luxury car you will not see. I was first time I sat down, almost groaned. Like a fairy tale. After a cold and hard deck this is the best.  
Here is now can be to live.


	7. Chapter 6: Comfort

Episode 6 Comfort

 **Kongo**

Kongo on the example of a man just got in the chair and, listening to the feelings, dissatisfied noted:  
"Sleep while sitting will be uncomfortable."  
"So who makes you sleep in the chair?" he said absently, not looking up from his Internet "normal people sleep in bed."  
"Where?"  
"Hold on a second, please, I will save the links, and than get to your cabin."  
"My cabin?!" the question turned out a little louder than she wanted.

"Yeah." Human raised his head in surprise. "I think it's better classic-style furnishings, bedroom is not the place to exercise creativity."  
"So, here it is..." Kongo waved his hand over his the conning tower, turned whatever it is - is not a bedroom?  
"Of course not!"  
"I see. And where will your bedroom be then?"  
Human sighed heavily.  
"First, not mine, but yours. And secondly, how do I know where you have more rooms? After all, whose corps is this, mine or yours?"

"I have no other areas" Kongo hissed, folding her hands on his chest.  
"why ... "no"?" - human looked round unbelievably, shaking his head. "Okay, even if there are no other rooms, you have one Central superstructure the size of a nine-story house. What, you can't find a dozen cubic meters of free space in it?"  
Mechanically calling the scheme, Kongo looked at it.  
Well, the layout of the ship's add-ons it is quite free, as they placed only that under the deck can not be placed, like radar, rangefinder and sensors of the observation system. And if, for example, to remake ... stop, She really was going to do it? Right now? In the middle of the ocean?  
"Unable. Even if I wanted to," she replied, hastily turning scheme.

"Why?"  
"You can make yourself a surgical operation? Any modernization of the ship is carried out at the repair base. Based on engineering simulator calculations."  
Human on its stupid of habit scratched the back of his head, muttering:  
"But in anime you can do yourself to pieces to share, like a transformer."  
Kongo presented itself in the form of versed on the part of the transformer, and shuddered.  
"Why?!"

"Well… " human shrugged uncertainly. "Grown for yourselves all sorts of devices or even unite yours hulls."  
Kongo shivered from disgust, but to comment on such nonsense did not. Not enough to understand that there are some perverts invented. Corps to unite... it is only human beings could come!

"Oh God, you're difficult" sighed the human.  
"Why do you care about me?!" she got angry.  
"I take care of myself" human said sullenly, looking round. "Dealing with evil and sleepy ship of Fog harmful to health. You are not a present."

Kongo was momentarily speechless with indignation. Isn't she a present?! How dare he…

"Look, why did you take me off the island?" human pointed a finger at her.  
"For information" she said in an icy tone, wondering again if it was worth doing at all.  
"Aha. Well, here's the information: for the normal functioning of mental models requires certain conditions. Believe me, this is not a whim, habitability — one of the most important characteristics of the ship. That I am now about…"

"I know what habitability is" she interrupted irritably.  
"And if you know, then why treat it with disregard? Here are the clothes you wear! What, you can't do without her?"

"This will require constant use of resources to protect against hostile environment."  
"Right, but it's the same here. You can sleep on the bare floor, heating it, and you can lie down once created a bed. Economy, isn't it?"

Kongo remembered their calculations and reluctantly nodded. To argue with the fact that the one-time consumption of resources to create an object much more economical was stupid.

"Finally! How far is this base?"  
"About a day and a half cruising course."  
Human raised his eyebrows questioningly and remained silent.  
With a weary sigh, Kongo started the engines, heading for the repair base.  
Still, there was a certain reason for all this. And his previous advice was reasonable.  
Hearing her sigh, the man became concerned.

"How long have you been up? Well, I mean, how long have you been awake?"  
"Sixty-three hours."  
"Damn, I'm fool! You must be tired."

It's hard to argue with that. On both counts. His search, a walk around the island, the recent fuss with the situation of the combat cabin, all this pretty tired her. Of course, not enough to reduce the operating parameters, but still rest would not hurt. And the avatar-in the first place.

Suddenly the man's expression became pleading.  
"Kongo, can you wait another five minutes? I here archive "The Daily Yomiuri" found, on English, now couple of outlets'll copy."

"Too narrow. Kongo, can you make it wider."

"It's stable now, I can't control him anymore" she grimaced irritably.

"Sorry, I didn't understand" human frowned.

"I can create two types of objects. The first..." as an example, Kongo pointed to her dress. "is formed from active nanomaterials, which retain their shape and parameters only as long as I control them."

"The second," - this time she pointed to the sofa, "is objects where the nanomaterial changed its physical state, forming a stable structure with the properties specified in the simulation. And after the conversion, I can't change them."

"Oh, I see. Damn, but not break same now. Stop, and if…"  
Human turned his head, squinted, as if trying to figure something out.

"Right! I can expand the banquettes."  
"What?"

"One moment." Rushing to his terminal, he typed in a search query. "Here, look. And here's a blanket and pillow. Not so much, but a couple of days will do."

Mentally sighing, the Kongo was built by the images model, filling in the nanomaterial.  
"Fine!" Human fairly rubbed his hands, drew created banquettes to a corner couch, put it on the pillow and then patted it with his hand, nodded:  
"Now lie down."

Uncertainly looking around the resulting bed, Kongo squinted at the man... and immediately angry at her confusion. Is she embarrassed? Who, she?

She leaned on her knee, intending to lie down, but the man stopped her, literally moaning:  
"At least take off your shoes!" and, covering himself with a blanket, he muttered under his breath:

"My God, how helpless you are."

Helpless?! But this time the indignation came out sluggish. Only now, when the load on the avatar fell, Kongo realized how she was tired. So silently pulled the blanket on his nose and unexpectedly yawned, closing his eyes.

Really, comfortable and somehow ... cozy. If earlier she had to either lower the sensation of the projection, or even out the ambient temperature to get rid of the discomfort, now ... Having shifted to a more comfortable position, the Kongo curled into a ball, quickly falling asleep.

Okay, she'll think about it tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 7: The ruler of the world

Episode 7. The ruler of the world

Oh, I feel like I'm will suffering from her.

After a moment, I shook my head wearily and muttered, "Twinkle twinkle little star," and went to the wing of the bridge, taking out my cigarettes. In fact, I have to throw, hell. With this blonde not the that quit Smoking, you will drink start.

I wonder if I would have refused to go back on Board.  
Would she have dragged me? Well, it's unlikely, most likely, indifferently turned away and left. I would stay. With native, damn it, humanity.

Though not for long. Even if those racketeers ' friends hadn't broken my head, a common cold would have sent me to my grave. Whatever, it's better here.

I tossed a half-empty pack of cigarettes on my arm. Another problem. I should have bought more cigarettes, but they were expensive. Although, it is in fact to give up smoking. Where do I find a tobacco shop here?

I finished the cigarette to the filter, turned my head, cursed and put it out on the sole. Don't forget tomorrow from Kongo to beg for an ashtray.

Back in the control room, I squinted at the peacefully snorting Kongo and settled in the chair. It's time to finally figure out what's going on in the world. Of course, the newspaper articles of the island state is not the best source of information, but there is no other. At least, not yet.

So, blockade. This trouble fell to the Earth not at once. Back in the early 30-ies of the XXI century in the middle of the oceans began to emerge impenetrable for satellite reconnaissance veil of fog, from which came out strange ships, outwardly similar to the ships of WW2. And with each passing year they are becoming more and, therefore, to sail the seas become more and more difficult.

Finally, in the 39th people are tired of it. The NATO representative delivered a heartfelt speech from the UN rostrum, the delegates applauded him, and the runaway reporters trumpeted to the whole world about an unprecedented military operation designed once and for all to put an end to an unknown threat.

However, nothing is described in the anime, a Unite Navy of Humanity was not. There was a United NATO Navy, which went to bear incomprehensible savages freedom and democracy. Russia, India and China said something like "OK, mentally with you", then pulled their own small fleets to the bases and began to wait. What NATO politicians were only happy, because the West has not hesitated to discuss what kind of technology the results of this operation will receive Humanity (Best part of Humanity, of course) and how it will look after the political map of the world.

But the calculation of the NATO members was based on the fact that to resist them will only destroyers of Fog, vibroblade which, of course, superior to everything known to mankind, but not pulling on the absolute, and tactics they had never shone, contemptuous the nickname "bots". So the US Navy had a half-dozen victories over them. However, what it cost the Americans themselves, never reported. And finally, according to intelligence (obtained as a result of divination on the coffee grounds, not otherwise), the ratio of forces was one to eight in favor of people. In short, the world community in advance applauded the crushing victory Of the Navy of Good.

The opinion of the admirals of the Navy, it seems no one was interested. Well, in fact, here the global economy is bursting at the seams, Very Big people lose a Very Big money every day, the correct world order is collapsing, and some fools in caps are mumbling about the possible underestimation of the enemy! Who will listen to in this situation?

And, the Great day has come. The combined fleet is in position, the fog has cleared, and ... it turned out that the admirals grumbled for good reason. First, instead of dozens of destroyers, people suddenly found in front of the dozens of cruisers and battleships surrounded by HUNDREDS of destroyers and submarines, and secondly, the heavy ships of the Fog, except vibroblade, was equipped with a still and a wave field. And this field did not break anything. Yes, it had a threshold of saturation, but to reach this threshold, it was necessary to hit the fog no less than a nuclear charge.

In short, there was no battle. People were just smeared. What the hell tactic, if you need to put the enemy at least two to three hundred anti-ship missiles, and he blows you with his first shot.

Although there is no, tactics people all same flashed. Taking advantage of the fact that the foggers, like bots, primarily fired at the most convenient or closest targets, often the whole crowd and on any one, some managed to escape from this massacre. Or rather several, since unlike shown in the anime, Battle in reality, there were many major battles stretching across the Pacific. Although all ended in the same way — not even defeat, and crushing defeat.

When the few survivors returned to their home ports, the world shuddered, but still did not understand.

Everything spun as usual: immediately called an emergency meeting of the UN, where Western politicians yelled at the East, accusing them of" betrayal of Humanity", extraordinary and Plenipotentiary ambassadors rushed to conclude new alliances and work out issues, the exchanges, just in case, collapsed, dollar fell, yuan rose,"leading experts" hoarse, and bearded prophets promised punishment to all the infidels.

But all this did not last long, for soon the ships of the Fog appeared right off the coast. And then all howled.

Ships Fog drowned any departed from the shore ship, shot down any seemed over the sea plane, bombed submarine cables and tunnels... some time has been holding satellite constellation, but in the end they got to they, knocking everything down in lower orbits and much more on geostationary ones.

It was not the usual "economic crisis" declared by Very Big people in order to redistribute material goods, but the real one. Stock exchanges just did not open, the banking system collapsed overnight, riots swept through all countries, and the population from the coastal areas rushed headlong.

In General, what was happening in the first years of the blockade — that words cannot describe it.

Those countries that depended on Maritime trade a little more than completely were particularly sad. The British even despair hit nuclear charge by patrolling the English channel cruiser of Fog and it seems that even it was drowned. At least they swore they did.

But after a refreshing radioactive rain passed over Europe, and the five ships of the Fog shot back along the coast (and got not only England but also Europe), Germany and France, without choosing expressions, explained to the British that once again, and they themselves will throw their nuclear charges on Britain.

However, those who had enough territories and resources, too got on full. The Russians frantically evacuated the inhabitants of the Far North, because now the "Northern delivery" went to the realm of sci-fi, and tried to defend the Black sea (which cost a lot of blood with a near-zero result), and the Americans, having lost not only most of the Navy, but also the half of the army that carried democracy around the world, received in return the collapsed global economy, taken out in the Third world production and millions of freeloaders, accustomed to sit on the allowance, drinking port and selling marijuana.

But, whether the mankind in this world was smarter, or the real Apocalypse sharply sobered politicians at the top... I don't know. However, the fact is obvious. Large States came to themselves quite quickly.

Russians, suddenly finding that NATO is no more, the European Union exists only on paper, and because of the boundary pillars look round in horror eyes of the young Europeans countrys, left alone with a Russian bear, quickly evacuated the population from the coastal areas (the benefit of something, and the land we always had) and began slowly to restore Russia within the boundaries of some there year (I do not know what it is, but at the moment the Eastern Union has already twenty-two republics).

The Americans, realizing that the freebie was over and carry the freedom in exchange for oil will no longer work, quickly wrote a new Patriotic act and remembered that they actually know how to work, not just financial balls to inflate. Someone there at them, of course, tried to blurt out, but... they deal with the protest movements rigidly and effectively. Not to mention"peaceful demonstrations."

So when the "black brothers", excommunicated from benefits, tried to organize a riot, they were met not by the police with shields and water cannons, but the national guard with tanks and machine guns. After that, all those wishing to fight for freedom to live for free, quickly drove into labor camps for re-education.

Well, then a couple of airmobile crews began to explain clearly to Mexican drug cartels that now they are not welcome here, and apparently a few carried away, because Mexico suddenly found itself in the United States. Canada also did not need to explain anything, these simply signed a long-standing document and hung the American flag next to its flag.

Ah, Yes, russians, it turns out, too, problem with drugs decided. And with the Afghan radical at all. That is, they hit the opium plantations in Afghanistan with thermonuclear charges. After that, nervously tapping teeth Pakistan joined India. Willingly and gladly.

In Europe, too impressed, but not so much, because there was enough of their problems. The Germans, admiring how the "unfortunate refugees" smash Paris, and on the streets of Marseille are the real fighting with armored vehicles, declared a state of siege in the country and raised the alarm Bundeswehr, which gave everyone a real German Ordnung sample 1939. To yellow stars, however, did not come, for a monument to the liberator Soldier in Treptow Park looked very convincing (as deployed near Kaliningrad, the 2nd tank army), but "poor refugees" rushed out suddenly became clean and cozy Germany with such speed that they almost trampled the French, Swiss and Belgian border guards.

Well, in the rest of the world, too... not bored. The Balkans blazed once again (and the end and edge of this war was not observed until now), in the middle East there was a continuing massacre of all against all that is happening in Africa did not know anyone, and the connection with Australia was interrupted seven years ago for an unknown reason.

Japan... went his own way and no one knows where. That's what the import-dependent state will do, being in isolation? That's right, will build a Navy! And do not care that the fleet this will fit except as targets the ships of the Fog , but it is. And what! Only in Yokosuka in underground (!) docks now stand about thirty ships of the class frigate-corvette! They just stand there, because to bring them from the dock... easier to drown immediately. Well, what's a fleet without sailors? So there, in Yokosuka, the whole naval Academy is organized. Well, like a cherry on the cake - space program!

That is, the Japanese regularly launch communications satellites (which ships of Fog as regularly shot down) for... no, I read manga, watched anime, but never thought that in the real world there are such individuals and in such numbers! In short, the Japanese are launching satellites to keep in touch with the United States! No words. Wasting precious resources just to hear "Mentally with you".

How are they still not dead with such a creative approach?!

Although the effect of these launches was, however, questionable to some. The USA through space threw to Japan "humanitarian aid" in the form of fuel Rods for nuclear power plants and some rare-earth elements. However, that they received for it from the Japanese, I could not find out. In Newspapers only studiously stressed, that for free, i.e., a gift! But judging by how diligently, they took the US for this "help" from the Japanese very much. Only it is unclear than. If only technologies.

The United States itself, like Russia, also kept the space program, but did not engage in nonsense and first of all hung satellites over the mainland. Well, regularly launch cheap "photographers", which the ships of the Fog of course shot down, but a couple of turns they managed to do a lot of shots.

When I finished watching the international news, I got out for a smoke break again. In General, the time spent is not exactly pointless, but wasn't much use... Well, I know that here, my people were not idiots, so what? Nice, sure, but what's the use?

After I finished smoking, I returned to the terminal and began to scroll through all the numbers in search of information about the submarine I-401 and Gonzo Chihaya. Vainly. It was as if there had never been a Fog submarine that deserted from the Navy and got a crew of yesterday's students.

The only thing I found is vague but colorful descriptions of recent battles Japanese fleet with two cruisers linear Fog on the roadstead of Yokohama, culminating in the great victory of the Navy. With what victory the rest of humanity has already congratulated the courageous people of Japan ten times.

If I understand correctly, they are about the episode when _Haruna_ and _Kirishima_ went to sink I-401, but in the end they were ambushed and left without ships, having miraculously saved the core. But what does the Japanese fleet, if from him in the battle involved only one experimental submarine, and then somewhere on the backup dance. After all, the 401-I sank the cruiser

In short, clearly propaganda bullshit. Like, all is not lost, the fleet we have hoo, and we soon will show to Fog which side puffer to clean!

Hmm, it is clear that nothing is clear. Although ... Twisting the thought that came to mind, I quietly cursed. What the hell do you want this Gonza and his submarine for? Well Kongo on it is bent, it is excusable, still young, stupid, saw the stuff and once in her mouth to drag. Like there's nothing else to worry about. And if think? What can one submarine with a team of schoolchildren? Not in a anime where heroic heroes heroically overcome, but in reality? Nothing. Well, it will break through the blockade once or twice, well, will bring or take away a couple of tons of cargo, and? What will change? And it will not last long. Fog is learning, and very quickly. Another thing is that now they are like blind kittens poking, grabbing at everything. But it's easy to fix. Kongo though and the blonde, but smart, her enough of a hint, and then… Search parties, air patrols, the Japanese equivalent of SOSUS ... all the anti-submarine warfare experience from two world wars and one cold war. And its all, the end for schoolchildren. As practice shows, against intelligent system no creativity and genius will not help.

Glancing at the sleeping Kongo, I rubbed my eyes wearily. Holy shit. She's really these "saviors of mankind" drown, without blinking an eye. How many are there on 401? Five, maybe. Gonzo himself, his two buddies and two girls. All on seventeen-eighteen years. Childrens.

Well, Victor, is willing to take a sin on soul?

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back in my chair, hands behind my head, and stared out into the dusk.

You can, of course, do nothing,but something to me that final, which is shown in a cartoon, doesn't like it. Like, the orders of the Admiralty code disappear and all Foggys find freedom. I want to cry, how nice and democratic. That's just the same as gathering a tank army in one place and declare, stop, guys, Statutes are no more, live as you want! Its really going to cry... all around.

Another five minutes after sitting, I mentally waved my hand. Enough of the world's problems to solve. The more buzzing in the head.

Tomorrow is another day. So I need to sleep while it is warm, light and flies... Wait, light. This is the window the night, but in the cabin the lights in full Shine. And the switch, characteristically, no.

In confusion turning my head, I realized my position and almost neighed in full voice.

My God, Victor, you're completely out of line. Even the light can not turn off, and imagined himself ... the ruler of the world. Tomorrow Kongo will decide that a stupid human is not needed, and you will fly into the oncoming wave. The chosen one, damn it.

Still chuckling silently at my own stupidity, I threw off my shoes, threw back the chair as far as I could, turning it into a kind of bed, and covered myself with jeans.

When already asleep, came up with the idea that it would be necessary to convey to Kongo, tactics — the lot of lieutenants, and admirals are supposed to think strategically.


	9. Chapter 8: Service station

Episode 8. Service station

 **Kongo**

Kongo slowed to five knots, approaching the rock with the slowly opening gates of her private dock.

"Holy crap!" human exhaled as he examined the cave behind them "Kongo, this ... lodge is too big for you."

"Flagship docks are standard, designed to service any Fog ship, even a _Yamato_ class super-battleship" she explained, and, glancing at the admiringly looking human, sighed softly.

Most annoying thing was that this individual was right again. Rest on a soft sofa is much nicer and more effective than sleeping on a cold floor

"Akashi, I need an engineering simulator, is it free?" she contacted the repair ship that controls the entire base.

"What could happen to it?" repairgirl answered grumpily. "It's gathering dust. You can't even be driven here by a storm".

Mental projection of the repair ship Akashi was waiting for her right on the dock pier. A short, short-haired repairwoman stood with her hands in the pockets of her strange clothes, which people called "overalls" and, slightly squinting, unceremoniously looked around the hull. Simultaneously, the scanners of the base is not less inconsiderate looked everywhere, wherever you can.

Kongo grimaced, barely suppressing the desire to shield themselves from such inspection a couple of shields, but said nothing. Anyway, it was absolutely pointless to make comments. Emergency service and tact were even less compatible than humans and reason.

Akashi, who was studying her, suddenly changed her face and jumped from her seat onto the bridge wing. Without permission, of course.  
"Wow! Human! Alive! she gazed rapturously at human.  
"A-a-a... em-m..." even backed away, from such a welcoming.  
"I — repair ship _Akashi_ , I'm in charge here..." repairgirl vaguely waved her hand "Who are you?"  
"Hmm... Victor, Rockin" little nervously nodded. "Very pleasant."  
"Akashi, I need to redevelop the internal volume of the Central superstructure" Kongo intervened, deciding that she had had enough shocks today.

"What?!" repairgirl shook her head, apparently thinking she had misheard.  
"Internal volume of the Central Superstructure" Kongo repeated, stifling a sigh. "It is necessary to allocate some additional rooms."

In fact, she already ten times regretted that he agreed to this crazy proposal, but it was too late.

"Why?!"  
Instead of answering, Kongo looked at human wearily.  
"Wow!" repairgirl eyes flashed and snide smile played on her lips.

 **Victor**

Crap, are we at the service station?! I looked with a slight shock at the black-haired girl staring at me mockingly in the real overalls of an auto mechanic (even a rag sticking out of her pocket!).

Although for service station here hangar too big. The brightly lit artificial cave, in the middle of which was the pool of the dock, furnished with a bunch of incomprehensible mechanisms, went no less than a mile away, and in width... it is difficult to say, because the flagship dock was separated from the rest of the base by a partition, reaching almost to the ceiling. I understand it's for privacy. Apparently the case at base there will be several boats at the same time, because subordinates are not supposed to watch favorite bosses in "underwear".

While I was looking around, girl in overalls finished me to consider (it seems also the scanner enlightened - ran on skin bad such chill) and now pressed on the Kongo.

However the essence of the conversation I did not understand, because they communicated both a voice and direct link.

In the end, they agreed to something there and... I was kicked out. quite literally. I mean, from the dock. Akashi, quickly formed a staircase (normal, broad!) from the bridge of the Kongo to the pier and, pushing me to her, grumbled:  
"Come on, I'll take you for a walk in the air while the girl changes."

What finally blew me a template.

This snide girl here is the Fog ship?! You're kidding! So feet I was going through automatically, while whimpering subconscious was trying of the fragments to re-fold the picture of the world.

At last, having recovered a little, I asked the repairwoman who was going nearby:  
"Akashi, and how long will it take... well... by Kongo?"  
"Why? You have plans? Which ones?" That one's eyes were shining.

"No, no, no" I said quickly "So, it just ... uh ... there, in Internet, I article not finished reading. At the most interesting place."  
"Pff - no problem!" Akashi snorted disdainfully, extending her palm.

Air shimmered terribly intricate hologram matrix, thickened, taking shape, fog nanomaterials, and five seconds later I was handed…

"Awesome!" I exhaled unbelievingly, twisting a real laptop in my hands.

"Yep!" quite threw up her chin repairgirl. "But now device is connected through my core, later, I will synchronize with that at Kongo in the cabin."

"Listen, and cannot be at all directly connect?" casually I asked, lifting the lid and admiring the neat keyboard. "Well, to the core of the Kongo traffic is not processed?"

"See that?" in front of my nose instantly drew a small, but very strong fist, and the sight of the repairgirl abruptly turned serious. "To support quantum connection is capable of only the core of the ship. And creating a dedicated channel in it is like performing brain surgery. You want me to cut off a piece of gray in your skull and make a radio out of it?"

"Okay. Okay, I'm not a fool!" slamming the lid, I hurriedly raised my hands in an apologetic gesture. "I just didn't know, thought it is possible to make as-that the separate transceiver."

"Well... repairgirl thoughtfully scratched her nose, "in principle it is possible. But why? You can't pass much on it without a core. Quantum interconnect processing is a resource-intensive procedure, plus hardware."  
"But how much?"

Akashi moved her lips, as if counting something.  
"Text, sound. Video is unlikely. Processor in this box, she nodded to the laptop — not pack. Well, the main thing-you also need to be registered in our tactical network.

"Clearly" I suppressed a wistful sigh. Fakir was drunk and the trick failed. It's a pity! But, okay. In the case of accurately find out who the network admin is working and what merits it register.

While I was thinking how to approach this difficult question, we reached the usual metal stairs (my God, she even has a ladder here!) and climbed a couple of stairs, walked out the sliding door to cling to the rock platform, the most reminiscent of a roadside cafe — fabric canopy, three tables of white plastic, the same plastic chairs around them, the soda machine…

Surveying the dumbfounded look of this scenery, I could not resist.  
"Akashi, let me ask you something. Where is this?! Internet, buzzwords, coveralls, just like a real mechanic..."  
"What, really similar?" Repairgirl spun around, looking at herself.  
"One to one!" I assured her with my thumb out. "It's like a service station."  
"Cool!"  
"So where?"

Repairgirl winced, sighed wistfully.  
"It's boring. At least these "soldiers" are running around on the sea, patrolling, and I'm sitting here like a fool on duty. Once a month someone will come, and then - "faster, faster, I have an operation, I have a schedule...". So I climb your human web. It is interesting, sites, forums of all sorts.

My subconscious, breathing a sigh of relief, gently wiped the restored template with a cloth. Ugh, that makes sense. She has no one to communicate with here, as other ships almost do not come to this base, and to call someone just to chat "for life", in the Fog fleet is not accepted. Here sits the girl on the Japanese sites-forums, but there is still a lot of things you can find.

"From where does the ship provide access to the human Internet, which is actually going to be in the intelligence services profile, it's stupid to ask, as I understand? as if by the way I commented.

Akashi snorted derisively and began demonstratively studying the clouds.

"Lead your foot on the floor, or pick the ground with the toe of your boot" I advised "Then all will be authentic."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, something like this." I demonstrated a few classic poses from the "I'm not guilty".

"Ha! You're cool!" repairgirl laughed.  
"You, too."  
"Listen..." Akashi looked around and conspiratorially lowering his voice, said: "do you want the picture of Kongo without armor?"

"No, I don't want it," I calmly refused.

"Well-well, like I'd believe that."

"Akashi, firstly, I have long been out of age when, with bated breath, look girls under the skirts …"

"Come on, it's light hull under the armor. Stylish, with lace inserts."

"And secondly, it's not nice ... from you."  
"Why?!"  
"Well, imagine a doctor who photos of patients in the Internet spreads. Like for fun."

"Fool" repairgirl frowned resentfully "I'm not posting anywhere. I'm not. Thats all, bye, breathe air, hypocrite organic. I don't have time here with you."

Turning away abruptly, she slipped her hands into her pockets and strode back into the dock.  
"Akashi I called.  
"Well, what else?" girl is angry with turned into.  
"What, like, really with lace?"

Repairgirl sniffed. She frowned severely. But she couldn't help giggling.

"really-really. Where necessary, it is covered, and between sections of lace from power beams to facilitate the construction. Kongo - a battlecruiser after all, and not a super battleship to wear a suit under armor."

I grunted vaguely, scratching my head.  
Lace hull. What these women do not come up with.

 **Kongo**

Akashi walked along the deck of the Kongo with a businesslike air, not ceasing to chatter and at the same time bombarding her with packets of information.

"So, I will configure climate system, synthesis of minerals for drinking water will be here that the main highway not to pollute. And distillate can not be consumed by human - will die. Lights necessarily, in the dark they can't see. Do with separate controls, otherwise he will be annoying. Next…"

"Akashi, how do you know so much about people?" Kongo asked.

"What's there to know?" repairgirl was surprised. "Module as module. Parameters of the environment for smooth operation... magnitude of the permissible load... provision of consumables... they are no different from us. But fragile, like a graviton compass. A little push, and they break. And repair then get tired — just only organic."

With a heavy sigh, Kongo once again considered the scheme of its add-ons. In fact, it was going to release only two volumes, not a whole system of rooms at all three levels of the superstructure. But to argue with the repairwoman, and even more engineering simulator, stupid. Except that…

"Akashi and the Elevator why?!"

"Becous it's stylish! At the same time, the Elevator shaft will provide additional protection for the front projection of the radar working barrel."

Kongo once again sighed, analyzing the plan of change in its design. These two come to an agreement in time?  
"And these here... the balconies — it will also be the style?" she asked doubtfully.

Repairgirl shook her head.  
"No, I took the developments from Eclipse XXI. The most expensive yacht on Earth, by the way, was. So it will be super style!"


	10. Important information!

Important information

Text translation is temporarily frozen. Until the Beta fixes all bugs. This page will display the status of all chapters.

Apologize for the inconvenience

Status:

Chapter 1 - Update

Chapter 2 - Update

Chapter 3 - Update

Chapter 4 - In progress

Interlude I - In line

Chapter 5 - In line

Chapter 6 - In line

Chapter 7 - In line

Chapter 8 - In line


	11. Chapter 9: Beginning

Episode 9. Beginning

 **Kongo**

"Wow!"

Kongo looked at human with a blissful smile on his face, flicking the switch, turning on and off the lights in the corridor.  
Noticing her gaze, the man was embarrassed to hide his hand behind his back.  
"I'm sorry, it's just... it's annoying when you can't do anything and you have to ask for every little thing. And now here is a real switch!"

Sighing silently, Kongo opened the door to her cabin and stood on the threshold, looking around the room exclusively through the avatar's visual sensors. Just out of curiosity. She wanted to appreciate this "style" with a "human" view.

In General, nothing special, although too many excesses. Why so few seats? And lamps? And mirrors? And... what are these storage compartments called? Closet? A chest of drawers? And a bed? Judging by the size, it is designed for five avatars, at least!

"Hmmm... so that is how ordinary billionaires live" sounded behind her pensive voice of a human. "only thing missing is a panoramic window."  
"It's closed."  
"Em, what you mean?"  
Instead of answering, Kongo raised the armor plates, revealing an entirely glass outer wall, behind which was a balcony inscribed in the contour of the superstructure.

"OU! Now everything is Feng Shui!" not clearly commented on the person.

"Feng Shui?" Kongo raised an eyebrow questioningly.  
"Well, that is, as it should be, by all the rules" human explained, and jerked his chin down the corridor, pointing to the other doors. "What's there?"

"Ahead the room designated as "mess-room", on the left — your cabin."  
"Mine?!"  
"Yes. By the way, it doesn't have a sensor network, so I won't hear or see you there."  
"What, really?!" human opened his eyes unbelievingly.  
"Absolutely" Kongo confirmed irritably.

In the end, she has the right to rest from him! At least occasionally!

Human opened his mouth. Close. Blinked eyes. Finally, he jerked his head convulsively.  
"T-thanks."

 **Victor**

Life is getting better! Personal cabin! Wow!

When I entered my room, I stopped on the threshold, dropping my shoes, and turned my head. Well, Yes, exactly same cabin as that of Kongo. Same dark brown wall panels, multi-level ceiling with hidden lamps and wood flooring. Just a little different. Less mirrors and massive armchairs instead of pouffe. Like, stern male style. Ou, and the desk! With terminal! Akashi, I adore you! Or did Kongo take care of it? No, its cannot be. From blonde will not get it.

Walking around the room, I looked behind each door, found four closets, a toilet with all amenities, and a bathroom with shower and jacuzzi.

Well, really chicly!

"Kongo, can you open my window too?"

The answer is silence

Ugh, damn it! She does not hear, she said that there are no sensors.

I threw open the door, looked out into the corridor, hesitated for a second, I just won't get used to yelling at the emptiness, - at last I shouted:

"Kongo, can you remove the armor from the window? Please."

Hmm ... did it seem to me or did someone invisible hopelessly sigh? Well, okay, main thing is that the thick armor plate slid silently upwards, revealing a panoramic window in the whole wall, behind which was a balcony platform.

"Thank!"

Now it's great! Wait, and balcony door? Again ask a blonde or something? And no, equipped with a normal doorhandle. Now took a bit of pressure, barely audibly snapped the lock, and part of the transparent plate slid easily off to the side, letting the fresh sea air into the room.

Beautiful.

But the admiration came out somehow sluggish, like "for show". Limit of surprise is exhausted. Too many things happened lately. Cold deck, slums, deck again, and now ... dwelling of the billionaire.

So I was indifferent, as if I had lived in such apartments all my life, undressed, fished a towel out of my bag, and stomped into the bathroom, hoping Akashi had not forgotten about the hot water.

It turns out not forgotten, even a hydromassage was found in the shower stall. So I splashed for twenty minutes, changing the temperature of the water and trying different modes. Finally, playing enough, rolled up in a towel and walked out of the bathroom.

Stumbling upon an evil and at the same time confused girl standing right in the middle of the room.

"Actually, breaking into a home without an invitation is considered indecent." I said gloomily, straightening the towel on my hips.

Damn, I was kind of promised privacy!

 **Kongo**

Breaking? From such a reproach, Kongo was completely confused. Not only did the lack of sensors turn out to be a double-edged sword - she stopped feeling the annoying presence of a human, but she herself could not contact him, - so now he also declares that she invaded him to the deck without permission! But ... there is nothing to argue here, because she herself has excluded the premises from her network.

"There are no sensors here," she reminded in an icy tone, lifting her chin. "I could not call you, so I had to enter."

Now human was a little embarrassed.

"Oh, yes. But people in such cases are knocking on the door."

Kongo for a split second just numb from such arrogance. That he wants to say that she will have to bang on the door every time until he deigns to answer?! Even had to fingers lock to resist the desire to grab this... individual and knock him into that door right now.

It seems that human understood her condition, because he hastily put his hands in a protective gesture.

\- Whoa,whoa, don't sparkling eyes like that. How about you make me a communicator so I don't have to run out into the hallway every time, and you don't have to run back and forth.

Communicator! This time, Kongo barely restrained itself so as not to moan. She could just call him through the terminal in the cabin! Human stupidity is definitely contagious.

"Small, something like a mobile phone or a bracelet" human continued in the meantime.

Writing down to my memory that in the future, when dealing with people, you need to be more careful, Kongo reluctantly nodded. In general, the proposal looked reasonable.

"Well." human did not hide his pleasure, which caused her mood to deteriorate completely. "And what happened, that I urgently needed?"

"House, where _Haruna_ and _Kirishima_ were located _, was_ attacked by people."

Human whistled, thoughtfully disheveled wet hair.

"Well, give me a couple of minutes, clean up and I'm at your disposal."

"Good, I'll wait for you in the cockpit."

Turning sharply around, Kongo headed for the exit, thinking gloomily that it was necessary to agree with Akashi and undergo a full diagnosis. To put this one on deck again ... no, there is definitely something wrong with her core.

 **Victor**

As soon as the door after the foggy slammed shut, I began to hastily pull on my clothes, digesting the conversation that had taken place. So, personal communication facility and even earlier than planned. At first, let the communicator be set up only for my blonde, but ... this is only the beginning. The main thing is that she should not hand over a primitive radio to me. But this is unlikely, the inertia of thinking in foggy is much stronger than human, and the very concept of "communication" is strongly associated with the quantum channel, the other they simply do not recognize.

Wearing boots, I jumped out into the corridor, decorated with the same inconspicuous luxury of a billionaire yacht - wall panels made of wood, polished metal and hidden lights. Only the style is not old-fashioned, like baroque, rococo, or some other "coco", but quite a modern one, without silly arabesques and curlicues.

It will be necessary later to look into the mess-room, I wonder what it is like?

For a moment I braked in front of the stairs, feeling a completely stupid smile creep onto my face. Stairs. Real. With handrail made of polished metal and "wooden" steps ... You're my good. But this staircase is the only one for the whole ship, so that you can immediately go up to the conning tower from the level of the cabin. But there is an elevator going from the deck right up to the observation bridge, which is above the cabin. Well and emergency brace ladder on top mast, which is immediately behind the central superstructure. But just look at it - getting bad. Definitely, life is getting better.

What, alas, can not be said about the local mistress. I have already learned how to determine the mood of a blonde. Right now - sitting in an armchair, stretching her legs, and sparkling with her eyes - means, out of humor, because in those rare cases when her mood is ... let's say, acceptable (I have never watched a good), she is girlish rolls up on a pouffe by the window, with his legs tucked under him.

Sitting in the chair opposite, I automatically reached for a cigarette, but cursing, put the pack back in my pocket.

"Kongo, I listen to you carefully. Just start with the intro, please."

Foggy frowned slightly, but nodded in agreement.

"Good. After the battle in the Yokosuka roadstead, Haruna and Kirishima mental models were discovered in the mansion of the creator of the vibration warhead. This is a weapon that …"

"I know" I interrupted. "Weapons designed specifically to combat the ships of the Mist. When hit, it somehow comes into resonance with your vibroarmor, causing its destruction."

"Yes. We considered the author of this development Professor Tojio Osokabe."

"But it turned out that he created the children, who then created a warhead. Like, since we can't, we will make those who can."

"Since you know everything, why are you asking?" irritably said Kongo.

"Oops, I'm sorry" I threw up my hands, apologizing. "Just clarifying."

Foggy sighed, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and continued:

"Tojo Osakabe headed the project "Children of Sakura". Creating people with an artificially assembled genome. Seven years ago, the project was declared unsuccessful, because only two out of a hundred children survived. The first is Makoto Osokabe, male, sixteen years old, currently occupying the post of Prime Minister of the Northern Region."

A picture appeared in the air depicting a black-haired boy in a strict suit with some kind of unemotional detached facial expression.

I could not resist a whistle.

"Wow, take the Prime Minister's seat at sixteen. Mighty kid."

"The second - Makie Osakabe, a woman, eight years old."

A new image: a black-haired girl, with features similar to the previous guy, but much more ... alive or something. Eyebrows frowned slightly, and in the eyes and discontent glitters.

"It was this woman who was involved in creating the vibration warhead" said Kongo.

"What the hell kind of woman is an eight-year-old girl?" I winced. "She is a child."

"Human children are not capable of conducting scientific research of such a level," Kongo calmly replied.

"And she didn't conducting them," I said. "As I understand, Makie dealt exclusively with the scientific part. That is, it requires only intelligence and specific knowledge, and not work experience and administrative abilities. Solving equations and conducting theoretical research, she is more than capable of, in the end, it was precisely for this purpose that she was created, but according to life experience, Makie is an eight-year-old child, albeit a very smart."

"What does it matter?"

"Big. In human society, she focuses not much better than you. Okay, this is later, please continue."

"Tonight, the mansion was attacked by soldiers from the Central Region. Their purpose was to eliminate Makie Osokabe."

Government of Japan seems recorded contact and issued an order to destroy information carrier.

"It would be strange if they had not noticed," I grimaced. "The secret carrier of this category should be guarded around the clock, and conspirators of you ... so-so. But what's strange? If there is a risk that the author of a unique weapon may fall into the hands of the enemy, it must be eliminated. Cruel, but reasonable. Don't to consider humans as spineless fools."

"I didn't finish" Kongo interrupted me with displeasure. "A third force intervened in the conflict - submarine I-401."

"How? Did she surfaced in the fountain?"

"Mansion is located twelve miles from the coast, and the cruising submarines of the " _four hundred_ " series carry twenty-eight launch containers for medium- and short-range missiles.

"Ou, then it is clear. And what ended?"

"Haruna and Kirishima, grabbing Makie, disappeared aboard the I-401."

I thoughtfully drummed my fingers on the armrest. I can not tolerate politics, but here it is it. Well, suppose why Gonzo Chikhaya heroically saved the whole trio - is understandable. A pair of battle cruisers can be useful to anyone, even if at the moment they are without ships. The question is, how did he know that the army was attacking the mansion? What, did he pass by at this time?

"Kongo, and this is exactly what Haruna with Kirishima is now on 401st?"

"Yes. Coast Guard surveillance cameras spotted the ascent of the submarine and the ascent of all three."

From such a statement I have naturally taken aback.

"Wait, did you use the human network to observe the 401st?!"

Foggy was embarrassed for a moment, but then she raised her chin arrogantly.

"It was reasonable. The fastest way to get information."

\- Wow! - I still dumbfounded.

Wow, girl is growing and getting smarter right before my eyes.

Usual cold-detached expression returned to face of Kongo.

"According to the records of video cameras, I-401 immediately left the port. You said you knew where her base was."

"Yeah" I nodded. "On Iwo Jima."

"That cannot be - foggy objected. "After blockade was established, a small operational warehouse of reserve of the Second Eastern Fleet was created on this island. I-401 could not come there imperceptibly, the security system would have informed me about the invasion."

"And if Hyuga was with her?" I squinted a little. "As the battleship of your fleet, it has access codes to similar databases."

" _Hyuga_ sunk."

"The ship is sunk, but the core has survived. And if the 401st picked it up …"

"that's nonsence!"

"Kongo, once you said: "this is nonsense, this cannot be"" I reminded me quietly.

Foggy at once darkened, catching a hint of a story with Maya.

"However, why guess, you can find out for yourself."

"How?"

"Send a scout, that's all."

"Scout" … - Kongo's gaze was missing

"But send two destroyers."

"Why two?" she blinked uncomprehendingly.

Sighing softly, I began to explain:

"A common intelligence tactic of pair. The first checks, the second keeps in the distance - hedging the first.

If something happens to the first, the second will at least have time to transmit the information. Well, if possible, evacuate partner. Otherwise, a loner will be destroyed by the first volley and guessing then what happened there."

Kongo thought for a few seconds, then nodded, apparently acknowledging the rationality of such tactics, and again thought with an absent look, giving orders to subordinates, and I climbed onto the wing of the bridge to smoke and think. It was a thought at the edge of consciousness that something was obviously missing in the wheelhouse. Controls, navigational table, operator posts ... dammit, all wrong. Finally, sorting through everything I remember, slapped his forehead, almost groaning. Cretin, I forgot the most important thing!

Sighing, he looked into the wheelhouse - yet it is unusual to speak without seeing the interlocutor.

"kongo, let's go back to the repair base."

'What for?"

'Sorry, but I forgot the most necessary thing that exists on any warship. Especially on the flagship."

"Which one?"

"Tactical tablet. For planning and parsing operations."

"I can form it myself" foggy waved her aside, apparently as an argument, pointing to the dashboard around the perimeter of the conning tower.

"You can" I agreed with a heavy sigh. "Only this will be another screen, exclusively for viewing, and I need a full-fledged working tool. Like a laptop that Akashi did for me."

Kongo squinted in my direction, looked around at all her creations, and pursed her lips in displeasure.

Well, again offended. And on me. As if it was my fault that it was impossible to make a trivial switch on the lamp for her. In a sense, it's realistic to make, it's unrealistic to remember that it is needed, for vile people have not mastered the power of thought, and are able to manage something only manually.

Well, she is blonde, what can you do?


	12. Chapter 10: a bit of tactics

Chapter 10. A bit of tactics.

 **Kongo**

Looking at human what mumbling something under his breath, running around the tactical table, Kongo was forced to admit that idea of returning to the base for create a tablet was reasonable. No, of course, she herself would have been able to create such a primitive device, but ... at the same time, she would have to continuously turn to the person for clarification on the controls. Because it turns out that the only thing that people could use to manipulate objects was upper limbs. Two (!) upper limbs and all! And with such an error that there was a shock. Even to draw a straight line or measure the required distance without special tools was an impossible task for them. There is nothing even to talk about the speed of execution of elementary mathematical actions. How this species, having such a meager functionality, could even create at least a semblance of civilization, is absolutely incomprehensible.

Human, without taking his eyes off the tablet, tapped the stylus on the surface.

"Here I did not understand a bit, what is the maximum firing range of this gravi-gun?"

Shaking her head in wonder, Kongo tried to figure out what he was asking. What kind of "gravi-gun"?

Turning over several options in her mind, she confessed:

"I don't know such a weapon system."

"But" human was surprised. "Takao fired from it at 401-st."

"Takao used a graviton linear accelerator."

Human in response pointedly rolled his eyes.

"What's the difference?! If it shoots - then it's a gun."

Another human trait that is impossible to get used to - people use slang and jargon to name everything around. Moreover, the principle of "jargon" does not obey any algorithm at all.

Massaging her temples - I wonder if the projection can have a headache? - Kongo explained dryly:

"The concept of "maximum range" is not applicable to the graviton accelerator. The radius of damage depends only on the amount of energy applied to it."

"Hmm, that means that if you transfer all energy of the superbattleship's shipboard systems to this thing, then you can shoot at half globe? Interesting" muttered human thoughtfully "but in general, this is a classic siege weapon. Guided by the whole hull, charges slowly, consumes a lot of energy ... but shoot very hoo."

"Yes. In a maneuverable battle, it is meaningless."

"Not really. If you know in advance where to shoot, then the thing is very good."

"Explain."

"Take for example one of the last buttles. Well, there's nothing to say about _Haruna_ and _Kirishima_. That's right that they were drowned, maybe next time they will think with their head. Because: "We cool, we battlecruisers, above us are only stars ...". Scouting? No, not heard. Provision? Cover? Support? What for?! Fools, damn it. But Takao ... this girl is well done. Kongo, she's really smart girl. Look …"

Human touched the sensor, displaying on the tablet the battle plan of the heavy cruiser "Takao" against I-401.

"The first: she calculated where the 401st will necessarily appear. The second: she took with her the "five-hundredth" series reconnaissance submarine due to its search equipment. And she prepared an ambush, transferring their systems to the "quiet" mode. Classic tactics of a sniper pair! No kidding, a brilliant plan. Since the submarine's "five-hundredth" touch complex is much better than that of the "four-hundredth", and Takao herself sits quietly like a mouse, going to the port 401-st submarine does not see them and ... suddenly gets a charge from gravi-gun into the shipboard. It's end. The battle is over. To finish off the submarine falling to the bottom, whose half-hull just evaporated - a matter of technique.

"Plan didn't work" Kongo said dryly, looking up from the tablet.

"Yep. The first and main mistake: Takao forgot about humans. More precisely, she did not take them into account at all due to snobbery peculiar to you. And don't sparkling eyes, it's true. You do not think of humans as a reasonable race."

Kongo slightly irritated pursed lips, pointing to the obvious:

"Humans in this battle did not participate."

"You're wrong, participated and even as!" Human shook his head, tapping the mark on the tablet. "Takao ambushed almost a kilometer from the coast and it was precisely the Coast Guard drone that spotted her. And she didn't even pay attention to it. Like, well, some misery of human manufacture has flown by, so what. And the misery transferred her coordinates to the post, from where Gonzo had already been informed that the heavy cruiser of Fog was standing there. Well, Gonzo, do not be a fool, wondered - why standing? who waiting for? - and launched an imitator forward, which Takao happily shot. As a result, the situation turned upside down: the 401st with their schoolchildrens, receiving data from the Coast Guard, knows the exact location of Takao, and she can only guess where is dammit submarine is hiding.

Kongo launched an analysis with new data and ... sighed soundlessly. Human is right. If substitute into the conditions of the problem that Chikhaya Gonzo received accurate information about the whereabouts of the Takao cruiser, then all his actions become logical. It turns out that no matter how wildly this sounds, people are a factor that must be taken into account, even if their operation does not directly affect. Information is unpleasant, but useful.

In mind nodding to herself, Kongo again focused her attention on the person.

"You said: "the first mistake", were there more?"

"Yep, the second is also common to all of you. You are planning only one step."

"Explain."

"You are preparing only one plan, not taking into account the option "what if everything goes wrong." And when plan fails, then you either rush about trying to think of something on move in drastically changed circumstances, or act on a pattern. In this case, Takao had no backup plan, and when first attack fell, she began to act like a robot. "I see - I shoot". And so she lost. She was corny predicted."

"Human intuition is not prediction," Kongo retorted sharply . "When I-401 came closer, she was able to evade the shot, but could not detect it."

Human rolled his eyes.

"Oh, God! It's simple! Here's an introduction to you: you launched a bait, and enemy destroyed it outside the range of your sensors. What is the conclusion?"

Sighing softly - how much he likes to ask rhetorical questions - Kongo sounded the answer:

"Either enemy has non-standard detection systems, or there is someone else there."

"Exactly! And Gonzo thought the same way. Well, with the "predicted" shot at all trite. He launched a few baits, calculating the distance at which Takao begins to capture the target. The time she needed to charge the gravi-gun was already known to him for a second, because the 401st has the characteristics of all the ships of the Fog, and thanks to information from the Coast Guard, he knew not only the class, even the name of the enemy. Further elementary mathematics. Time to capture the target is known, we add time to it to charge, we get the time of the shot … and a second before it we make a sharp evasion maneuver. That all. No mystery, no intuition, just a competent calculation. Although, I must say, Gonzo is a damm adventurer, I would not dare to go so far."

Listening to this analysis of the Kongo, with every word more gloomy. Calculation. Just a tactical calculation. And so obvious.

"So … simple" she exhaled after a long silence, suppressing some kind of irrational offense. Unlike her, it took a few minutes for a human to understand this.

"All genius is simple," he said quietly, sitting down opposite. "Sly and cunning plans often fail."

Kongo cocked her head, expecting to see a condescending grimace on his face. But human looked calm, without superiority or condescension.

"Kongo, tell me why you created mental projections for yourself?" He suddenly asked.

"It brought us the concept of time," she answered dryly. "We began to distinguish between such concepts as "past" and "future.""

Human nodded knowingly:

"Which, in turn, led to the ability to plan their actions, and not just respond to "stimuli"."

"Yes, we started to understand what you humans call tactics."

"How long have you had these avatars?"

"The first mental model was created by Yamato, about two years ago."

"How old is yours?"

Kongo stopped for a moment before answering.

"Four months."

"Ou" human's face stretched out. "And how old are you ... well, in general?"

"For what this question?"

"But still"

Kongo shrugged irritably.

"For the first time I realized myself seventeen years, three months and eight days ago."

Human rubbed his forehead, ruffled his hair, and exhaled slightly audibly:

"Holy crap."

 **Victor**

Wow. It turns out that my blonde is only seventeen years old! Crazy news! Well, okay, human standards don't quite fit here, but … wait in foggy, as far as I remember, the "age of consciousness" largely determines the appearance of the projection, and in appearance she is ... nineteen, maybe twenty. And, damn, still a young girl. Hmm, and once again "hmm". Young maiden with eyes burning.

By the way, despite the fact that foggy's cannot synthesize organics (Akashi tried to explain why, but I did not understand anything), their projections are organic. Even under a microscope from the human body can not be distinguished. But the process of creating them is very long and terribly complicated. This is in the anime - they dared nanites in a handful, conjured something there, and here's your body, and in real life an avatar is just a projection of the personality matrix of the core, or even a part of it, somehow connected to the core. In general, everything is confused and goes through the section of mysticism rather than science. And to hell with it with this scientific mysticism, if it were not for the nuance arising from this - foggy's could create a copy of the human body, but a piece of bread – nope. It's a shame - they can't, and I sit on a fish diet.

Going down to the mess room, the décor of which Akashi obviously took from the same place, from where the cabin — "wooden" wall panels, multi-level ceiling and hidden lights — I rounded the bar counter, glanced sadly at the bar itself (completely empty), and went into the kitchen. Good, it should be noted, kitchen. Although not very big, but literally stuffed with all sorts of equipment. In particular, it had industrial refrigerators. Large refrigerators. Very large refrigerators. And here they were just not empty.

Having opened one, I gloomily examined the contents — plastic cuvettes similar to a machine-gun belt, where fishes lie in the nests instead of ammunition — and again sighed wistfully.

This Kongo got tired of jumping every day for fish, like a pelican, and she solved the problem of my food for the year ahead, at least. That is, I found a pollock shoal with an echo sounder and fired at it from a jet mortar. As a result, my jaw dropped onto the deck and several tons of stunned fish. Although most of all I was struck not by the "fishing" itself, but by how she caught it from the water. Transport sleeve! Such a funny thing, similar to a tape of ammunition for a six-barreled cannon, only about ten meters wide and about twenty lengths. Which is generally intended for reception from the ship supply nanomaterials and corrosive combat parts.

Here is the Kongo and walked this thing over the surface of the sea, collecting stunned fish. Honestly, if it weren't for the packing of the mined, I would suspect Russian roots in she, because only Our people can cook sausages by radar (this is the same microwave). But pack, clearly sorted by weight and size ... Our people can't. Definitely. Preparing myself to eat, I sat down at the table, sluggishly picking my fork in the plate. Fish, fish, f-i-s-h! I didn't like fish before, but now I hate it. And at one glance at the fridge, my trembling chills me.

"Have you eaten?" the screen that appeared in the air showed the disgruntled face of the Kongo.

"Almost," I growled, pushing the plate away and looking into a mug of coffee. From the coffee in it, except that only the name, let alone the taste ... burnt rubber, seasoned with the delicious aroma of hot asphalt.

"I downloaded the latest data from the tactical network into your tablet."

"Why do you need this tactic," I grumbled.

"Chihai Gonzo sank eight ships of my fleet. His tactical decisions …"

"Damn, Kongo, for the sake of all saint, forget this crap about brilliant tacticians and great warriors!" not restraining, I groaned in full voice. "Neither the genius of the commanders, nor even the courage of the soldiers themselves wins war. Wins system. Logistics, communications, reconnaissance, coordination, speed of personnel training, and loss replenishment. That's what always wins. Well-tuned military machine grind any geniuses in unlimited quantities."

Kongo clearly wanted to object to something, but I threw up my hand, indicating that I had not finished.

"Want an example? Take it! WW2, US Navy VS Japan Navy. On the side of Japan: magnificent, warlike commanders, excellent ships, well-trained sailors, plus samurai spirit. In the United States: strong, but not capturing the stars from the sky warlords, great ships, average sailors, and fighting spirit is so-so. Because the Japanese are fighting for their country, which is already suffocating without living space and resources, and the Americans are fighting for democracy, that is, for money. In short, the only thing that the United States surpasses Japan is the economy. They have it more powerful, and the fleet, respectively, bigger. In the Japanese General Staff they all understand this perfectly well, but they decide that there is nothing terrible. Let the Americans have the quantity, but we have the quality! Moreover, the war is planned to be quick - we will capture what we need, we will strengthen ourselves, we will build up muscles, and then we'll see who wins! And most importantly - war will go on in the Pacific Ocean, where the bases and ports can be counted on fingers."

Moving the plate, I nodded at the tabletop:

"Project a world map, please."

After waiting for the image to appear right on the dinner table, I consistently jabbed my finger at the Philippines and the USA.

"So, Japanese analysts in the same way unfolded a map of the world, measured the distance from the coast of the United States to the theater of future military operations with a ticker, calculated how many resources are required to supply a large fleet capable of conducting military operations far from the coast ... after which they categorically stated that in principle, it is impossible, and the landing operation in general passes through the section of fiction. Because it is unrealistic to haul millions of tons of fuel, ammunition, food and spare parts through half the equator. So, we will attack first, seize the American bases, drown everything that they have in the Pacific now, and we can not be afraid that a new will sail. After all, Americans need to be dragged from the metropolis, and we have everything at hand. And if a small squadron of the United States, taking with it high-speed transports, can still make a raid, then a serious fleet capable of breaking through the defenses will stop halfway due to lack of supply. No sooner said than done! The Japanese brilliantly plan and carry out an attack on Pearl Harbor, right there they drown the US Pacific Fleet and joyfully seize all the tasty, absolutely sure that the Americans will bite their nails, because no one is able to fight so far from their native shores."

I looked up at the attentively listening Kongo and grinned wryly.

"It would seem a victory? But no! Americans gather mathematicians and set them the task of ensuring the supply of a group of so many pennants at such and such a distance. And since mathematicians do not care about military theorists, they approach this problem as usual. There is a point "A", there is a point "B", the distance is equal to "C", make up the equation of the "transport problem", which includes: the required range of resources, turnover of the supply vessel, storage capacity at the intermediate point, supply distance, and so on, and so on , and then take and ... solve this problem! Japanese in shock. They hoped that the States would barely be able to reach them with the raids of the cruiser squadrons, and they were hammering with a full-fledged fist from battleships and aircraft carriers!

Moreover, another factor begins to act. Americans are not warriors, they are warriors at all lousy, but good traders and organizers. So, while the Japanese are fighting - bravely, courageously, sometimes brilliantly, turning operations and shining with dedication - Americans just working. Clearly, consistently, reliably and prudently. _Yamato_ \- the strongest battleship with the most powerful and long-range guns? Okay, let's not send battleships against him, send aviation. Bottom line: _Yamato_ at the bottom, the price of ten aircraft! Americans sank the most powerful ship of that time, losing only twelve pilots! Japanese pilots are stronger than American ones? Do samurai start using "kamikaze"? Okay, building an air defense cruiser, creating a layered anti-aircraft defense, developing a unified fire control system, and any air attack of the Japanese is simply choking. Supply convoys suffer from submarine attacks? Okay, build special anti-sub warfare ships, form search squadrons, patrolling the ocean around the clock with reconnaissance planes, and the "wolves of Doenitz" are drowning, barely leaving port … Not war, just work."

Taking a sip of the already cold coffee, I shuddered in disgust and reached for my cigarettes.

"Actually, there were still a lot of factors, but the most important - Americans were able to create a well-tuned military machine. They turned their Navy into a well-functioning mechanism that drove through Japanese, like a tank a glass container box."

Having already brought the lighter to the cigarette, I caught myself and, rising, went to the window, nodding at it to the Kongo:

"Can you open it? Yeah thanks."

Exhaling smoke out the window, I concluded:

"Can you understand, Kongo, there is no reception against scrap, if there is no other scrap*. And no tactic will replace it. The Japanese Navy, with its samurai spirit and brilliant admirals, has been pulverized by ordinary bookkeepers and mathematicians."

* Russian proverb. English equivalent: "A gun is the great equalizer".


	13. Chapter 10a: Engine of progress

Episode 10.1: Engine of progress

Yawning and wrapping myself in a denim jacket, I climbed onto the wing of the bridge to smoke in the predawn twilight and, almost stepping on a half-meter steel millipede, cursed in surprise. Watching the violet-black ribbon briskly running past, I involuntarily shuddered, recalling my first acquaintance with the service bots of foggys.

I accidentally knocked over an ashtray on the carpet, and to clean it, I asked the Kongo for a vacuum cleaner. And she only waved back, saying that later the repair system would resolve the issue. I did not understand the part about the repair system? But did not specify. Well, later, so later, why bother? In vain I did not specify.

No, I'm not afraid of insects at all, but ... when in the middle of the night the door swings open and a half-dozen mechanical spiders the size of a basin are smashing ominously with their limbs on the floor. In this situation, the armpit hair of any human will turn gray. The only thought would be: "What do I have to brush off and where to run if the door is locked?!" However, after a couple of seconds, the problem with the door ceased to exist in principle, just like the door itself — Kongo knocked out the door, rushing to my scream. About spiders I forgot instantly. The graceful figure of the mist in only one translucent peignoir and black lace panties, around which the wave shield sphere shimmered and the cloud of active nanomaterial sparkled with discharges, was a sight much more impressive than any mechanical insects, be they at least a hundred times monsters. Yeah ... until the end of my life I will not forget, with what expression of the face Kongo explained to me that these spiders are not terrible eaters of defenseless humans, but ordinary service bots of its repair and restoration system. At night, they came because the basic recovery protocol, which also includes cleaning the internal volume, is activated only when she sleeps.

Once again sadly sighing (Damn, well, who knew then?!), I removed the ashtray from the table, putting it in the way of another centipede. The insect stopped for a split second, moved the antennas located on the head segment, and then simply ran through the dishes, leaving behind a perfectly clean surface.

Returning the ashtray to the table, I put a cigarette in my teeth and, having already brought a lighter to it, stopped.

Idea! Damn, I'm a genius! Just I need ... emm, got it, notebook! So, now need to do everything quickly, until they fled.

…

Having woken up, Kongo stretched with pleasure with her whole body, simultaneously looking at the logs that had accumulated overnight. In principle, there was no need for this, because even in her sleep she continued to monitor the situation and monitor current operations, but with the advent of the avatar, this seemingly senseless study of already known information contributed to a smoother transition from "subconscious" to basic algorithms. Well, and optimized planning for the current day. Though a little, but still.

Already finishing viewing, she suddenly stumbled upon the message of the repair and restoration system that the cleaning mode of the internal volume is still active and abruptly sat on the bed, launching a self-diagnostic procedure.

Strange. She feels fine, all the indicators are normal, the parameters are almost reference ... what could have happened to the repair system overnight, but did not issue a single warning about the accident?!

Starting to guess what the reason was, Kongo hastily found a human ... and with great difficulty suppressed the desire to rub her eyes and once again carry out a self-diagnosis. Then, she jumped off the bed and, while changing the night clothes on the dress, jumped out of the cabin … In order to observe an insanely surrealistic view with the eyes of an avatar: the human slowly backed away along the corridor, throwing pieces of paper in front of a disgruntly creaking service bot, and said:

\- Come on, come on, chew, eight-legged.

\- what are you doing?!

\- Hush, don't scare him! - he waved his hands, distracting for a second from his occupation.

\- What is going h ...?! - Kongo started talking, but at that moment the bot picked up the last scrap and, not finding new ones, gathered in accordance with the protocol to return to the hangar.

\- Where are you going? Stop right now! - human howled, hurriedly scattering new pieces of paper. - Back, eight-legged! Kongo, do not bother! it's will run away!

Understanding nothing, Kongo was still silent, watching the events with astonishment.

Fragments scattered by a man led the bot to the kitchen, then he had to climb onto the table, walk through it, and ... lean against a sink full of dirty dishes.

\- Come on, spider, move your brains, - whispered feverishly the human, whose face literally blazed with hope of a miracle.

The bot scanned the deposits, spent a couple of seconds on the analysis, and in full compliance with the protocols began to remove particles of organic matter from the dishes.

\- Yo-ha! - The human jumped, raising his fist in a winning gesture. - Yes! Yes! Yeah!

Kongo, exhausted, sank into a chair, covering her face with her hands.

Unfortunately, this human gesture didn't help her at all - through the sensor system of the ship, she still continued to watch the human in full enthusiasm dancing around the dishwashing service bot, singing:

\- We were born to make dreams a reality!

No, it's just unbelievable! By the most approximate estimate, the population of the Earth is at least seven billion people. Seven billion! But, how could it happen that she got this one here ?!


	14. Chapter 11: Spys, like we

Episode 11: Spys, like we

 **Kongo**

Kongo was furious. The human was right again! One of the destroyers sent to Iwo Jima was destroyed by fire from the island. And if not for the advice of the man to send two ships to investigate, she would not have received any data, because the advanced destroyer just blew to pieces direct hits before he had time to report the discovery of the enemy. And, judging by the monitoring data, the fire was led by the battery of the _Ise_ class battleship. And since there were only two such ships in the entire fleet of the Fog: _Ise_ and its _Hyuga_ sistership ... the conclusion was unequivocal - since Ise itself is now part of the Reserve Squadron, the battery on the island belongs to the _H_ _y_ _ug_ _a_ that was sunk a year ago. Damn Chihaya Gonzo somehow managed to subdue the battleship! Moreover, to capture with it, a small reserve base of the Second fleet! Just unbeliveble!

The human, who had studied the information on the tactical tablet, looked up, squinting.

"M-mm ... Kongo, I hope you are not going to immediately storm this base with a cavalry assault? Of course, I don't know what Hyuuga is like in reality, but in that stupid anime it was a very active person. I am even afraid to imagine what she could turn the island into, having at her disposal the resources of a whole base."

Squinting darkly at him, the Kongo shook her head negatively:

"The local reserves are not very large, moreover, if _Hyuga_ took over the management of the base, its computing power is not sufficient to conduct a full-fledged battle."

"And she can't strengthen? Or, for example, build a fleet of destroyers? Nanomaterial is in her abundance, as I understand it."

"No. Quantum crystals which serve as the basis for the core, are grown over the years. And in any case, on this base there is no equipment for their production."

"Hmm ... and you? Can you increase your fleet?"

"No. Even the creation of a destroyer core takes more than six years. In addition, there are restrictions on the quantitative composition of each fleet."

The human grimaced.

"Let me guess, again the Admiralty code?"

"Yas"

"I see. Then may I know your future plans?"

Kongo hesitated for a moment. In fact, she was not used to discussing her actions with anyone. Especially with people. But recent analysis has shown that the "human viev" may be useful in planning. And, in the end, just silly not to use the available resources. Even if these resources ... - Kongo threw a gloomy look at the person waiting for an answer, - ... are rather dubious.

"I'm not going to attack the island right now" she said, after a pause. " _I-_ _401_ from Yokosuka went to Hokkaido. But sooner or later she'll be here."

"I see. So, you want to drown the poor OJS?" with a heavy sigh, stated human.

"Who?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, OJS - is an abbreviation for Ordinary Japanese Schoolboy.*

"Humans in the crew _I-401_ already out of school age" she said coldly, internally wincing from another human specimen of jargon.

" Yeah, out" a sour-faced man nodded. "but not so far"

*(OJS or Ordinary Japanese Schoolboy - it refers to a cliche in most Japanese anime, where the main character is an ordinary Japanese schoolboy.)

 **Victor**

Damn that Hyuga! Why the hell wasn't she sit quietly? Damn sniper! Although, if remember the original, with Hyuuga's head in general problems. Very big problems. For example a love story to the 401st which was sunk her. fell in love head over keel with that snotty submarine! "Ah, Lady Ilona, Ah, Goddess of war, Ah, her torpedoes hit me in the…". Ugh, damn, pervert. No, I'm not against love in General and maiden in particular, but squeaking with delight to jump on the one who drowned you… I think it's masochistic.

Hmm, but the Kongo is really pissed off. But approached the matter much more thoroughly than in the stupid anime. In the four days that we hung out in the sea, waiting for 401st to appear, the electronic reconnaissance ship and the naval strike brigade in full force joined to the Kongo squadron (the same "student Council" from the cartoon), - four heavy class _Myoko_ cruiser under the command of the battle cruiser _Hiei_.

Also an interesting company. But I haven't met them yet. In order not to frighten off the 401st all this violent five drifted on the other side of the island, outside the detection radius.

Oh, I feel like it's gonna be fun.

Sitting in her favorite spot by the window, Foggy suddenly perked up and whispered with a predatory smile:

"I-401, you came."

Here it comes.

"Hmm, and if they sit down on base?" I asked a little aloof, glancing at the tactical tablet, which displays the situation of the area in real time. "Even with the forces you now have, storming the island will be a challenge."

On the face of the Kongo flashed a smile.

"They won't. A moment ago, I sent an order through the tactical network to the battleship _ISE_ to follow Iwo Jima."

" So what?"

"Since _I-_ _401_ has access to the tactical network, she will notice this order and try to leave the island before the Backup squadron approaches. Or I'll drown this island with her."

"Good move," I admitted. "One moment, if you will."

"Speak"

"You once mentioned that Takao was expelled from the composition of its fleet for desertion."

"Yes. And what?"

"I mean, Takao doesn't have access to your network right now, right?"

"Yes," Kongo said, flushing with displeasure. "As a flagship, I had the right to delete her identifier."

"And now the question..." I squinted, staring directly into the eyes of foggy "Why is the 401st, which also deserted, and much earlier, still has this access?"

Kongo froze. She frowned. A minute later she said thoughtfully:

"I don't now"

"By the way, from which fleet is she, who is her former flagship?"

"White fleet, _Yamato_ super battleship," foggy replied thoughtfully.

"Ah, well, then it is clear," I nodded.

Kongo raised an eyebrow.

"What is clear?"

"Why 401st is not excluded. Although ... and who is now commanding the White Fleet?"

"Yamato"

"I realized that before the flagship was the Yamato, and now who? Musashi?"

"Super battleship _Musashi_ is a flagship of the Scarlet fleet" Kongo irritably explained "White Fleet, as before, is headed by the _Yamato_ super battleship."

"Wait, wait..." I shook my head, puzzled "You mean Yamato is alive?!"

"And why should she die?" no less puzzled staring at me Kongo.

Well, something is wrong here, according to the canon, Yamato should be at the bottom long time a go.

"E-mm… You see, in that cartoon I told you about, Yamato was drowned by her younger sister Musashi."

"Why?!" girl's eyes widened.

"Who the hell knows. Some kind of family dispute."

"family?!"

"Yep. Look, are you sure Yamato is okay?"

"Yes, I sure. We met a month ago, and now her ID is present in the tactical network."

Well, that's funny now

"Then why didn't she exclud 401-st"

"I don't now but...I can guess." said Kongo, again falling into reverie.

"Interesting to hear"

"I-401 periodically puts in the tactical network reports about Humans. Most of the information that is now there, received from her."

I whistled involuntarily.

"It turns out that Yamato foisted people her agent."

Kongo gave me a far from friendly look in response.

"That's just a guess."

"But it is quite logical"

"Then why I or _Nagato_ don't know about it?"

"Who's Nagato?"

"Flagship of the First Eastern fleet battleship _Nagato_. Her's fleet is carrying out a blockade of the North-Eastern coast of Japan."

"Oh, I see, she's your roommate."

Kongo winced, clearly unhappy with the comparison, but nodded:

"Yes. And since we're…" she suddenly fell silent in mid-sentence.

It looked very frightening. Mouth half open, eyes fixed…

"Kongo, what happened?!"

She withdrew from stupor, several times blinked her eyes, returning in reality, finally, slowly, as if not believing in the that intends to say, spoken:

"I was contacted by I-401... she... invites me to negotiations."


End file.
